


Midnight Sun Continuation

by dankalloy



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Animal Death, Animal Violence, F/M, Suicide mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23853850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankalloy/pseuds/dankalloy
Summary: Picking up where Stephanie Meyer left off, I've written more chapters of Midnight Sun, which is the Twilight novel from Edward Cullen's perspective for those who are not aware. I highly recommend you read the first couple hundred pages Stephanie Meyer has available on her website before beginning this continuation. Thank you for reading!
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale, James/Victoria (Twilight)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 29





	1. Complications (Continued)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Midnight Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/612220) by Stephanie Meyer. 



The ride home was short, even by my standards. I was too ensnared in analyzing Bella’s every word, every expression, to remember the contempt brewing in my sister’s mind.

Rosalie was waiting for me in the garage, perched lightly on the hood of my Aston Martin. Perhaps Alice was wrong about it surviving this. I sighed deeply, then opened the driver’s door.

_What were you thinking! Idiot!_ She snarled, lips pulled back to expose all of her teeth. “I don’t want to move again!” Unspoken, periphery concern for Emmett registered. “What if she says something!” _You would really risk our family over some stupid mortal?_

“She knew already.” My tone was defensive, but for once I was telling the full truth concerning her. “Jacob Black—Ephraim Black’s great-grandson, if I have the timeline right—told her last Saturday.”

Shock erased her furious expression, and her thoughts quieted. _…Huh. So much for that treaty. Next we’ll have a war on our hands…because of_ her. “Ugh! You are so frustrating!” She slammed her stone hand, palm-open, onto the hood. I winced as it sunk into the carbon fiber, creating a halo of miniscule cracks. “You could have told her the story was superstition, not confirmed it!”

Alice’s light graceful steps pronounced her entrance, though we’d both heard her coming. “Now, Rose,” she said reproachfully, “you love that car almost as much as Edward does.”

“Wish he loved our family half as much,” she seethed, glaring at me.

I wanted to respond with some acidic remark—did she really think that I didn’t love them?—but I was distracted by another of Alice’s visions of my Martin being destroyed, this time reduced to a toaster-sized sculpture of a hand holding up a middle finger. I had to give Rosalie this much; she was, at least, creative as she was vexing.

“It was going to happen regardless,” Alice shrugged.

“You’re just as obsessed with her as he is,” Rosalie shot at her. _Honestly! We’re vampires, for God’s sake; how can they collectively lose their minds? Carlisle should do some research. Quickly._ Her teeth ground together, and she thought of a few creative places I could stick my car when she was done mangling it.

I grinned; her glare turned into a glower. “I’m not quite sure that would work. Physically.”

“Oh, I’ll make it work,” she growled.

Carlisle and Esme approached, their thoughts resigned; apparently, they had decided to intervene. Emmett and Jasper were nowhere in the vicinity.

_There is no rest for the wicked,_ Carlisle thought sardonically as they flitted into the garage.

“Carlisle, Esme, Edward told the human what we are!”

_Perhaps…._ Esme did not yet know what Bella looked like, but an immortal face swam in her head. _Perhaps this is the outcome meant for my son._ She was too slow to shield the thought from me, and she looked away from my glare—softened, always, for her.

Carlisle was less pleased, though his thoughts followed her exact path. His golden eyes were, however, unbearably understanding, regarding me with loving disapproval. _She’s quick, then. You would not have told her yourself._

I nodded stiffly. There was no need to repeat the detail about Jacob; my parents had been plenty close to hear it.

“Rosalie, Edward loves her. _I_ love her. We aren’t going to force you into anything—”

I broke Alice off with a chortle that I didn’t even try to hide. Nearly delirious humor arose at the thought of attempting to make Rosalie do anything. Deep shame blossomed beneath it, filling my empty chest, as Alice’s other words—and their implications—sunk in. Rosalie and Alice both glared at me. Esme shot me a warning glace; Carlisle was resigned.

“As if we could.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “You are far too stubborn. What is done has been done; destroy my car if it makes you feel better. I can assure you, Bella is trustworthy.”

“Are _you_?” She held her glare as I took a step toward her, snarling viciously as I saw the direction of her thoughts. I meant her no danger, as she knew, but the wrath pulsed through me. At the same time…she had a point.

I clenched my jaw and broke off our furious eye contact.

I _was_ dangerous. And the more time I spent with Bella, the more likely it was that I would slip up. Alice’s vision of the meadow, the one where Bella did not make it out, swam before my eyes. If only she didn’t insist on having no witnesses! And yet, another part of me ached desperately for as much time alone with her as possible. She was constantly in danger of being wrenched from me…mostly by my own hellish nature.

Perhaps our family would not be immediately to blame if I committed this ultimate sin, but with the attention I was pulling at the high school….

Rosalie saw the defeat in my face. She jutted her chin toward the sky.

“I won’t hurt your precious car,” she said curtly, leaping off of it. “Only for all the work I put into it. Be _careful_. I will be extremely angry if we have to move because of your pigheadedness.” She walked toward the entrance, then glanced back. Her eyes touched Esme, then turned sadly away. _I don’t know why you can’t just leave her_ alone.

Yes, that made two of us. Or, it did; I was fully aware now that it was my own selfish nature that tethered me to her. Look at how much I was risking, for so many people; my siblings, my parents, her parents, and her….

Rosalie stalked across the sprawling lawn, disappearing into the forest beyond. Esme sighed sadly.

“I hate seeing you kids fight.” _Our family should be stronger than this._

“It’s hard not to, with her attitude,” I said through clenched teeth. “You’d think Bella was criminal.” Not far off, in Rosalie’s mind. Of course, I couldn’t voice that particular outrage to anybody, if I wanted to keep my head.

“Edward, she has her own challenges,” Carlisle reminded me gently. _She does not do as well with change as some. I think it reminds her too much of her own immortality._

I shook my head. “I fail to understand why that means her bitterness is acceptable. We’re all immortal, too.” My throat burned, but not with familiar thirst, digesting my last words. What I would give to change that. My need was stronger than Rosalie’s, all-consuming…and futile, I knew. Death or immortality were my only two options; they were not all that convergent of paths. At least, they hadn’t been until Bella brightened my midnight.

“Edward…she has a small point.” Esme glanced at me, clear remorse on her face. “Not about…all of the bad things. But, this does pose a risk. If the Volturi ever discovered her knowledge….”

“She poses no threat. I know my old companions will not agree, but she will be one of us someday.” Seeing my expression, Carlisle stopped talking.

“I’ve seen it,” Alice chimed in. “That is evidence enough.”

I turned my face away, aghast. Of course Jacob Black did not have an inkling of the danger he had put her in…but the Volturi! Yet another danger she faced, yet another infuriatingly complex problem to resolve. Keeping her alive, mortal, and safe…it was more than a full-time job.

“Be patient, son.” Carlisle smiled at me, his face alight with centuries of wisdom. “You all are young still; and I am sure that this, as with all love, will find a way.”

How I yearned for his confidence! His golden eyes were glowing, in his head a created vision—not a true future like Alice could see, but an imagined outcome—of me and the girl, sitting on the piano bench while I played her song. In his head, her expression held the same soft bewilderment he’d seen at the hospital. But her eyes were shining in a way I could not bear…so exquisite, yet so entirely impossible. It was as Esme looked at him, not how Bella should look at me.

I pushed away his thoughts. “I appreciate your faith in me,” I muttered, only half-sarcastically. There was still no remnant of the monster; I had not heard from him since I had been changed by my love for Bella. There was still that _other_ hunger, the one that pulled me to her soft body, that begged me to hold her in these marble, unsafe arms. Perhaps that was the more dangerous of the two.

There was no monster roaring for her blood anymore, but that did not change the inherent demon I was.

With one frustrated look at my Martin, I left Alice, Esme, and Carlisle in the garage. It was far too early to give in, to go back to Bella’s, and I could hear Rosalie huffing around in the living room. I was by no means afraid of her, but I had grown weary of conflict. My life had been nothing but recently.

Instead, I ran into the forest.

Running never lost its thrill; that was one perk of this body I had not expected. Though my legs moved almost imperceptibly fast, trees seemed to march by in slow motion. Dodging was too strong of a word; I merely passed them, aware of them as they stood like soldiers in a line. The wind whipped around me; it should have been cold, would have been excruciating to human skin, but was merely chill to me. Noticeable, but not uncomfortable. As I knew from the Denali wilderness, there was no such thing as too cold for this body.

Perhaps the best part was hearing nothing but my own thoughts—and those, consumed with the pleasure of the moment, were bearable for once. Already, there was nobody for miles. The absence of my family’s hesitance, fear, and—in Alice’s case—impatience, was intoxicating. If I could not be alone with Bella, this was second best.

I had run to Seattle and halfway back before the sun set.

The utter bliss kept crossing my mind, even as I contemplated the impossibility of my situation. A monster, infatuated with a mortal. A monster, drawn only to the ultimate prey. A lion, in love with a mouse.

Not even a mouse. Bella was so much more fragile, and wasn’t the lion afraid of the measly rodent? True, I was terrified of breaking her, but that put undue blame onto Bella. No…I was a lion, in love with a lamb.

And yet, despite the alleged moral compass I had gained, I was directly opposing my decades with Carlisle. Pursing my prey…in all aspects of the word.

I flinched away from the thought, where it lead me. Scarlet eyes glowing, crouched over….

Even as my throat burned, my cold undead heart shrank.

No. I was not maintaining this, getting to know _her_ , her quirks, her individual beauty, her increasingly intricate thoughts, just to lose myself. Nobody would harm her.

Not even myself.

I suddenly longed for her scent, ached for the burning that assured what was left of my heart that she was safe.

Though I had been planning to stop home first, I altered my course and increased my already nearly super-sonic pace.

Her house loomed in front of me before I knew it. Charlie was downstairs, the television flickering along with his thoughts…asleep. I listened for the rhythmic breathing from both bodies before I moved. Trusting the oil I’d previously applied, I slid effortlessly into the second-story window.

…Ah. The scent that ripped through me, exquisitely painful, comfortingly her, almost did not register as thirst. Almost. The venom flooding my mouth, the tightening of my muscles, was all too easy to ignore.

Effortlessly, as if I had been doing this from the very beginning of my existence, I slid into the rocking chair and allowed myself to bask in her presence.

The moonlight bathed her, exposing her full glory and dying her hair blacker than the night outside. Her skin shone against it, porcelain and fragile. It smoothed her expression, but through the light, I could see the furrow between her brows. Her slender body, tucked beneath only a thin flannel-patterned blanket, drew lines I tried desperately to ignore.

Where was her normal blanket?

I listened for the sounds, and allowed myself another deep breath, but I couldn’t smell anything but her. My hearing proved more potent, for once, than scent; the dryer was still rumbling.

Laundry was such a simple thing to keep her cold.

Again, I wished for mortality, so badly it was a cutting force, a stake twisting into my heart. Like a fish wishing for air, it was simply impossible; even if I died, in the only sense of the word left for me, my…essence would be lost. I no longer had a soul, and if I did…. It would stay with Bella. Always.

As I gazed at her sleeping figure, my hand started to tingle. Curiously, I sat, experiencing the feeling. It quickly turned into the same current that had possessed me during the movie in Biology. How was this possible?

Could I hope against hope that by some act of God (a genie, a djinn, any sort of higher force) this was it? Instead of fire, it was electricity? To become mortal again?

“Edward,” Bella suddenly sighed.

The feeling pulsed, spreading quickly from my arm to my entire body. I ached with every crystalline cell in me to be able to caress her face, mold my body to her curves, warm her despite the lack of bedspread.

She opened her eyes.

Instantly, I flew beneath the bed.

Above me, she turned over. The blanket rustled against the sheets. A deep sigh.

Feet flew over the side of the bed. I didn’t dare breathe.

She padded, feet bare, to the bathroom. Water ran and hit skin. The sound of skin rubbing against skin; washing her face. A deep breath. Footsteps coming back in.

She lay back down and sighed again heavily. Despite the tension, I ached to be able to see her. What secrets did her eyes contain? Did she, too, feel the current?

Of course the electricity was not meant to turn me mortal. Miracles existed for the pure of heart and deed. I was a selfish, murderous monster, chasing the one object of affection I never should have allowed myself to feel. She was simply too loveable; or, rather, I was too infatuated. I was too weak. I should leave, but I knew I could not bear to, especially with the Newton boy waiting in the wings.

I relaxed slightly against the floor. She laid back down, but her breathing was hitched. Could she sense I was here?

It happened twice more; after she had fallen asleep, the current spread slowly through me. She awoke suddenly as it reached its peak both instances. I stayed beneath the bed, unwilling for her to catch me here. I had never felt more amoral doing this. She had not uttered any more words, and as she fell asleep again, I decided to leave. Tonight, I was simply not meant to be here.

I ached with the departure, but I could not convince myself that she needed me here. I was, after all, only interrupting her sleep. Thankfully, the third time she’d woken, she retrieved her heavy comforter from the dryer and happily settled into its warmth. She was as comfortable as could be, and would only be more so when I had left.

When she was sleeping peacefully, I deftly slid out the window and left both her and the strange current behind.

My pace was slow on the way back to the house. Questions bounced around my immortal mind, which usually had more than enough space for everything. What if there was a way back? True, our family’s combined centuries of searching had no information to show for it, and the Volturi had never mentioned anything of the sort to Carlisle, but they would not care for it. I somehow doubted even our Denali cousins would trade immortality, vegetarians though they were.

No, we were entirely alone in our quest.

So, I would not lose hope. I could not steal Bella’s soul in my vast selfishness, but perhaps I could regain mine.

Rosalie was in the living room, reading a new medical study on insulin-dependent diabetes. _Ceramide manipulation, of course,_ she thought silently. She was intent enough that she lacked any insults to throw my way. Emmett and Jasper were back at their chess game; both looked away to smile widely at me.

_Glad you’re home!_ Jasper thought. He had become much more friendly since I’d met Bella, though I inconvenienced him a great deal. I suppose our shared weakness fostered a sense of comradery in his mind.

_Been spying on the human again?_ Emmett grinned. I scowled at him.

“Where’s Carlisle?”

Both of their thoughts flashed to his study.

“Thanks.” I glanced back at the staircase. “By the way, I see a checkmate in three.”

“Don’t cheat!” Jasper and Emmett complained simultaneously, then intensely examined the others’ pieces.

I chuckled as I knocked on Carlisle’s door, half a second later. I’d been entirely lying, but I enjoyed participating in some aspect of the game.

“Come in.” He was pouring over stacks of papers, spread out haphazardly across his desk. Unusual, for Carlisle. Esme perched on the very edge of the desk, painting an incredibly detailed landscape featuring Mount St. Helens on a gigantic canvas. She moved with almost human speed, simply because she enjoyed the act and did not want it gone too soon.

“What’s all this?”

Carlisle met my eyes, somewhat abashedly. _Moral guides. Philosophers, both modern and ancient. Essentially, I’m studying the good of one over the good of another. And the implications of choice; if an individual chooses a path, wants that path, how is another to determine it is not good? Of course…it’s all dependent on so many variables. I cannot imagine you would have her changed if she did not want it, so she must. But how…temperate…of a newborn would she be?_

My eyebrows pulled together. “You are foregoing the most important aspect.”

He waited patiently.

I sighed. “And of her soul?”

Esme cut in. “Carlisle and I have been discussing that,” she said, throwing an admiring glance his way, ensuring by his expression she was not speaking falsely for his feelings. “No matter how tattered a human soul is, no matter what unspeakable things they commit, the soul is never lost. It is absolutely condemned, but never gone. The only way that can happen is if the soul is willingly given, usually in some demonic deal.”

I laughed dryly. “How do you know that was not the beginning of our kind?”

Carlisle spoke aloud, so he and Esme could easily keep track of the conversation. “We do not know for sure, but in a world where evolution is so easily proven, why should we discount it for our kind? Most do not have the moral guidance of our family,” he added, thinking of my dark days, viewing them as an arch-angel plot, not a god complex, “but nonetheless. Percentagewise, is this more different than humans? Their race is not pure, is undoubtedly amoral at times. As are we. My son, I will not attempt to change your mind, but I do believe that if any of our kind do retain their souls, our family would be the first.”

I digested that. Esme went back to painting, but still angled herself toward us.

“Why are you studying it, then?” Sometimes, even with my inherent abilities, Carlisle remained a mystery. I could not imagine a person with a kinder, more self-aware soul.

He laughed softly. “Edward, you cannot believe only my opinions matter in this aspect! I’m simply comparing my thoughts, trying to ensure I look at it from every angle possible. This is not something we take lightly. This is why I only saved lives with it; the implications of changing someone who still had a choice were simply too diverse to sift through.”

“But that’s just it! She has a choice. She isn’t dying, at least not actively.”

Esme smiled sadly. “I don’t want to see you lost again. She is, despite your words, mortal. She will die eventually. If she does not wish for immortality, that is the end of the dilemma. If she does, however…is it fair, is it justice, for both of you to be needlessly unhappy?”

“I’ll cause her pain.”

All three of us instinctively remembered the awful fire, the beginning of this life. I burned, consumed in the pyre of their thoughts added to my own.

“…That, plus the pain of leaving her family. I cannot change her parents, her friends…. She deserves a normal life. She deserves a normal partner.” Both Carlisle and Esme noted the obvious despondency in my voice.

“Leave that up to her,” Esme encouraged. “If she is fully aware of the stipulations of our kind, and she still decides to join us…it is a consequence of her action.”

I shook my head stubbornly. “This is the opposite of what I came here to discuss.”

A shared glance—wordless concern emitted from both of my parents.

“Edward, you know that I would share any information obtained on that front with our family immediately. I have, unfortunately, heard not even rumors. I seriously doubt there is a way back.”

My mood instantly declined. I had expected as much, but the hope that carried me here was horribly painful in its absence.

_You would leave us?_ Esme’s heartbroken thought broke my reverie.

I shook my head at her. “I think few of us would choose to remain immortal.”

Agony ripped through her, thinking of our family torn apart like that. Her decision would hinge upon Carlisle’s, I saw. Of course. That was exactly what they didn’t understand.

“I feel the same way about her.” The words were almost a whisper. Esme looked at me, shocked. “I can say for certain. The way you feel about Carlisle, I feel about her. There’s…much more pain involved, though.”

She considered this, felt a fresh wave of hurt for mine. She looked at Carlisle, imagined him mortal, and metaphorically blanched. _Oh._

Carlisle, too, finally understood.

“Well, this situation does not—and, perhaps, cannot—be remedied overnight. Even for us,” he added sardonically. “You’ve given me much to think about, my son.” His eyes narrowed slightly, and his thoughts registered a deep sense of loss. “I will, of course, research any potential for a cure more readily.”

I nodded my thanks. Esme reached for my hand; I allowed the contact, squeezing hers gently. “Love you, Mom.”

I still had time to kill; when had nights become so long? I considered changing clothes and heading back to Bella’s home, but discarded the idea quickly. It would only depress me more tonight, with the debate for the _morality_ —I laughed bleakly to myself—for her immortality so fresh in my mind.

Instead, I rearranged my music collection, going over different albums in my head. I changed clothes, donning a simple blue button-up and black jeans, keeping the same white shoes. Alice, of course, had restocked my closet a few nights ago. She preferred our outfits to differ, and rarely allowed us to wear the same thing twice. I thought it was an entirely unnecessary waste, but Carlisle had more than enough money to sustain her habits. Esme loved the excuse to drive into different towns, donating the clothes in increments, as to not draw attention. I knew that it made Alice uncomfortable to be unable to pinpoint timing of her visions, so I went along with it. Nobody else seemed to mind much.

Once I had gone over the four-thousand-odd CDs, I lamented for the music lost before they had existed. Jasper maintained some old tunes on his acoustic guitar, but he rarely played. He did not seem to care as much about it as I did.

I’d forgotten about a math assignment due; it was done almost as soon as I remembered it.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon; I could not bear to be apart from Bella anymore. Gathering my backpack, I raced to the Volvo. Rosalie’s derisive snort was behind me before I fully registered it.

The drive was so much longer than it had seemed last night. Too late, I realized that I should have brought a jacket; I would have to act cold while outside. At school, but not around Bella.

Pure pleasure spread through me. Perhaps the anticipation of seeing her, but really the innate knowledge that she _knew_ me, more than any human had before, was gratifying. I was already completely hers; I still marveled that she seemed to convince herself otherwise. My mood, unpredictable more than ever before, swelled. I was completely happy for the first time in a long while, entirely thrilled that the sun meant another day to spend with her.

Charlie’s half-hidden thoughts presented themselves to me a few miles out. Sated hunger, concern, and as always, all-consuming love for his daughter. That, we could agree on.

Though I could not discern the conversation through his thoughts, I _was_ close enough to hear. I parked on the east side of the block, the opposite direction Charlie took to work, and waited.

Metal scrapped against ceramics; both of their heartbeats were a steady, pulsing rhythm. Wood dragged across linoleum; heavy steps announced themselves as Charlie.

“About this Saturday…” he began. Both of their heart rates increased. Water hit the plate. His thoughts changed, both embarrassed yet determined. Love and concern still lined the edges.

“Yes, Dad?” I could hear the edge to Bella’s voice, and grinned in anticipation.

“Are you still set on going to Seattle?”

She hesitated, too briefly for Charlie to notice. “That was the plan.”

Bristles scrubbed against the surface. Charlie liked to use his hands, to dispel some energy of the conversation. He was, I realized, somewhat emotionally incompetent. Or, no, that was too harsh. Perhaps too insecure to reveal the depth of his emotions? Too afraid of Bella deciding to leave?

Even though that would be the healthiest course of action for her, I could absolutely sympathize with him on that.

“And you’re sure that you can’t make it back in time for the dance?”

“I’m not going to the dance.” Weariness saturated her tone; she _had_ repeated herself enough times over the last few weeks. I grinned.

“Didn’t anyone ask you?” Concern swelled, turning into anxiety. Which answer was he afraid of? I certainly doubted that she had told him about _me_ , so what fear could be infused into his voice now? Ugh! The two of them combined raised more questions than they answered. Frustrating, yet incredibly interesting.

“It’s a girl’s choice.”

I laughed aloud. Leave it to Bella to say exactly the right thing. She was impossible for anybody to get information out of; at least I was not alone in that regard.

“Oh.”

I could almost see her eyes, downcast and guilty. She had disclosed in no uncertain terms that she hated to lie…so why did she now? Was she afraid that Charlie would not approve? Was it simply her preference, reserved as she was? Was she suicidal? For the millionth time, I mourned her mental silence.

Charlie left soon after. I timed my arrival perfectly, replacing the cruiser with the Volvo as he rounded the corner. A curtain fluttered upstairs, and I could not contain my smile. Finally.

Again, I allowed myself to simply bask in the knowledge that she was here, with me, and would be until this afternoon. She stepped out soon after, forgetting to lock the deadbolt in her haste. I shook my head slightly but maintained my good spirits. I could save my disapproval of her survival instincts for later.

A brown turtleneck covered her entire upper half, slightly too big. I was grateful again, both for the distraction, appreciative of the coverage it provided for other people.

She looked tired, though her hair was clean and flowing around her face. It didn’t look wet on the porch, but the misting rain had moistened it on the short walk to the car.

She paused, slight color darkening her cheeks, before she climbed in. She snapped her seatbelt on smartly. Her scent made a pyre of my sinuses, but I almost didn’t notice. All it meant was the physical reaction; easily swallowed venom, muscles to relax. It meant she was alive and near me. It was all that mattered in the world.

“Good morning,” I said in my non-scary voice, hoping she’d not noticed my reaction. It was so controlled I was unsure if human eyes could detect it, and yet she always surprised me with what she perceived. “How are you today?”

_How tired are you today?_ is what I really wanted to ask. Her sclerae were slightly red, the shadows beneath her eyes deeper than usual. Other than that, though, she didn’t seem as if the restless night affected her too badly. Again, I cursed my inattention to human needs. What if it weakened her immune system too much, and she caught a cold? What if it turned to pneumonia? What if—

“Good, thank you,” she said softly, ducking her head yet maintaining eye contact. Her eyes melted, and with them did my stone heart.

That did nothing to assuage my fears; she was a martyr.

“You look tired.”

Instantly, I thought I may have offended her. It could have been perceived as a negative comment about her physical appearance, something I could never think. She was utterly perfect in every way, besides her obvious love of danger.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled, swinging her hair around to cover her face. Concentrated, sweet air hit me, but I was prepared. I was surprised by her honesty. Did she know I had everything to do with that? She must be angry with me, as she well should be. I would only bring her more pain.

Keep it light.

“Neither could I,” I finally settled on.

It worked; she laughed. “I guess that’s right. I suppose I slept just a little bit more than you did.”

“I’d wager you did.”

My earlier anticipation rose: the intoxicating aspect of understanding her more.

“So what did you do last night?”

I glanced at her, keeping the movement calm, but wary now. Did she already know?

Her chocolate eyes gazed into mine, soft and welcoming.

I laughed; I was becoming paranoid. It wasn’t the time for that question, anyway. “Not a chance. It’s my day to ask questions.”

Though I didn’t need to, I glanced at the road. It was hard to look into her eyes and avoid truths. I looked back at her almost immediately, though; her face was too expressive, her words too reserved, for this to be a constructive conversation without eye contact.

Her brow furrowed slightly, and pink darkened her cheeks. Always the object of fascination, against her will. “Oh, that’s right. What do you want to know?”

Everything. What created such an ethereal being, why you were thrown haphazardly into my path, the ins and outs of your personality…your favorites, your dislikes, your expectations…your soul.

Keep it light.

“What’s your favorite color?” This was the beginning of my understanding. The gravity of the moment, unknown to her, somehow made it more sobering.

“It changes from day to day.” She rolled her eyes at the obvious question, but I instantly became irritated. Of course she would not have a straightforward answer. I was determined to _know_ her, no matter how many roadblocks she threw at me.

“What’s your favorite color today?” I knew what mine was—that dark blue blouse, combined with the rose and cream of her skin….

“Probably brown.” Her voice rose slightly at the end, but it was a statement.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me. Would she surprise me with every word for the rest of my existence? Before I had met her, I would say it was impossible. Now, I would bet the other way. “Brown?”

“Sure.” Her eyes grew serious, slightly guarded from my skepticism. Her hair still hung as a curtain, not blocking my view, but occluding it slightly. Frustrating. “Brown is warm. I miss brown.” Of course—she came from a desert. Perhaps she was not surprising; perhaps I was simply thick. “Everything that’s supposed to be brown—tree trunks, rocks, dirt—is all covered up with squashy green stuff here.” Her voice turned somewhat whiny toward the end. I was trying to imagine it, as Jasper sometimes remembered the South, but the two seemed mismatched. Perhaps I could take a trip home with her, to watch her eyes as she gazed upon the landscape she loved.

Those eyes enraptured me; I had expected her to be embarrassed, but she was defensive now. How unchivalrous, laughing at her honesty.

“You’re right,” I said seriously, gazing into her eyes. Perhaps I was wrong about the blue; I had discovered a newfound preference for brown, myself. “Brown is warm.” It was impossible to deny the draw of chocolate, gazing at her. Carefully, I swept her hair behind her shoulder, the better to see her face.

I pulled into the closest parking space available, cutting off Erin Teauge’s attempt to circle back into the formerly empty space. I felt somewhat rude as she parked her Aerio in a spot much further away, dejected by the thought of walking that much more in the rain, but it was for Bella’s good. It was, too, less time I would have to act cold.

I wasn’t about to let our arrival stop my questions. I decided to ask about the CD I’d seen, the music that had surprised me, as I’d never seen Bella wear eyeliner.

“What music is in your CD player right now?” I’d planned this, and hoped she hadn’t removed it.

“My Chemical Romance.” She didn’t seem embarrassed, which was good. I wanted her trust more than anything else. I would be careful to not laugh again, nor be angry with her answers.

I dug through the CD compartment between our seats, pulling out the same album.

“Debussy to this?” I raised one eyebrow at her.

Her reaction was frustratingly opaque; she kept her eyes down, tracing the cover art.

When it was clear she would not say anything else, I sighed and got out. She waited, CD in her hand, awkward for a reason I couldn’t discern. When I opened the door, she gingerly set the CD on the dash. I smiled in understanding; she was so timid! She needed a guide for every action, it sometimes seemed. And yet other times, she seemed so brave, so brash. And always driven by incredible kindness.

I was not through asking about Arizona, but I wanted more time to read her expression. I settled for movies—she was a fan of the classics, of course, and hated gory action. With her aversion to blood, I was not surprised. The pain that shot through me, watching her retreat into her English classroom, was almost physical.

As was my habit now, I followed her through others’ thoughts. I made sure to steer clear of the Newton boy, lest he vex me too much, but it wasn’t much better. Every attentive note she took, every gaze out the window, every flush that occasionally crossed her face, taunted me.

I found her outside of her Spanish classroom before lunch. Jessica took one look at me and departed, jealous but resigned. She, at least, was happy that Newton was her date.

“What is your ideal vacation?” I fired off as soon as she joined me. We walked, shoulders almost touching, to the cafeteria. I wanted desperately to hold her hand, but was afraid—both of the strange, unabating hunger, and of her imagined reaction to my cold hard skin. Instead, I gazed into her eyes, hardly watching where I was going.

She glanced at me then away quickly—frightened by my intensity? I struggled to control my expression. Her heartbeat sped up, but she did not look scared.

“Someplace warm.” She glanced out a passing window, and half-smiled. “Somewhere like Alaska, you know?”

I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. Her honest answers were revealing, but this kind showed me even more; she joked to lighten her misery, to dull the tension, to ensure everybody that she was not suffering as much as she really was. I would have to buy her a nicer coat.

“Humid? Arid? Plenty of foliage, or somewhat barren?”

She smiled, shaking her head slightly. What did _that_ mean? “Warm is my only stipulation. I suppose Greece would be fascinating, or Egypt.” She paused, then added, “Peru would be beautiful too. I’ve always imagined it as Arizona, only with a beach.”

I carefully filed that away. I would ensure she was able to see all of the world, and experience everything. Especially the desert sun.

“Where _have_ you been?”

We were sitting now, in our usual bubble. Thoughts swirled around me. It was incredibly easy to ignore Rosalie’s irritated, jabbing remarks, Jasper’s concern and slight jealousy, the Newton boy’s stormy mood…the only thing worth paying attention to was Bella.

“Uh, not many places.” She took a bite of the disgusting cafeteria pizza, thinking. She swallowed and amended, “San Francisco with Charlie, Phoenix, and Forks. Oh, and I went to Zion National Park once. Renee and Phil wanted to hike.”

“That’s not much.” I was thoughtful now; had she named those hot places only because that was what she knew? What would she think of whale watching in Alaska, of visiting Russia’s architecture, of touring Lithuania’s countryside…?

“Not all of us are millionaires,” she noted sourly.

I smiled at the misconception but did not correct her. “Where would you like to go?”

“Could I bring my parents? And Phil?”

“Sure.” Ever-thoughtful.

“Hmm. Well, Phil would love to go to the New York Stadium. Charlie would love to go fishing in Alaska, I bet. Renee—”

I cut her off. “Okay, no parents. Just you.”

She grinned, slight embarrassment touching her face. “Oh, lots of places. Paris, Tokyo, London, the Grand Canyon, the California Redwoods, Rome.... Almost everywhere.”

“Everywhere with history?” I grimaced at the mention of Rome, worried anew about the Volturi, but she didn’t comment.

“Yeah,” she said softly. I couldn’t figure out why her eyes were suddenly melting.

I asked her about books, about foods, scents, trees, her opinions on certain political endeavors, both historical and modern, about dream houses and gardens.

When I asked her about her favorite gemstone, she automatically said, “Topaz,” then flushed dark red. She refused to tell me why; I had to dazzle her in order to extract the truth from her.

“It’s the color of your eyes today,” she finally conceded, staring at her empty tray. She seemed hesitant, wary, almost…sad? I couldn’t touch on the emotion. Again, I wanted to move her head, angle it to see into her eyes, but I restrained myself. My white hand sat motionless between us; her left one grabbed a lock of hair and twisted it nervously. “I suppose if you asked me in two weeks I’d say onyx.”

Regret flared in me at the happiness that surged. Remembering my revelation of brown today, I understood all too well the meaning.

I turned to flowers, a topic that kept us until we sat down in Biology. It may have been more simple if she had one color preference, but her love of flowers—gathered from her mother, though she noted that Renee could hardly keep them alive—was complex.

“Dream car?” I fired, working my way down a long mental list as we settled in. Mr. Banner was a few minutes away, dragging the wretched television behind him. My muscles already twitched, anticipating the lockdown to come.

Sometimes she answered immediately, but sometimes she paused. She hesitated here, considering. Finally, before I grew too impatient, she tilted her head and met my eyes. “I like my truck.”

I struggled to keep from rolling my eyes. I could have seen that one coming.

“You don’t like sports cars? Luxury cars? Compacts, off-roading vehicles…RV campers?” I teased.

“Ha, ha. I like how solid my truck is; I’d bet an airplane could fly into it, and it wouldn’t even touch the paint.”

“It _did_ fare well in the accident,” I agreed dryly. She’d given me another fear; crashing airplanes. Of course, if I was near, she needn’t worry. I comforted myself with that as the lights went out. I pulled my chair away from hers quietly, but it was a wasted effort.

The electricity was immediate; instantly, my muscles locked down and the depraved craving flowed through me, demanding I touch her delicate cheekbone, her slim wrist, her thigh….

I tried to focus on the movie but failed spectacularly.

The hour passed slowly; the impossibility of this being a transformation, from immortal monster to mortal man, consumed me again. Obviously, Bella had some kind of ability…. Carlisle had explained his theory, that some humans are naturally sensitive in certain aspects, and that these come into fruition if they are changed. I wondered what would happen if—

No.

But would it be possible? If she already had this unknown power, this direct defiance to my ability, could she change me? This situation was already so impossible; she should have died the moment I met her. The existence of my kind was proof enough that there were forces humans didn’t understand. Were there the same for vampires?

I knew it was wishful thinking, but I could not discount the idea, destroy the hope of deserving this angel beside me. I would never stop improving myself for her, and so this possibility—regardless of the likelihood—intrigued me.

As I had saved her, from both myself and the damned van…could she save _me_?

I glanced at her, bathed in the light from the TV, arms tight and eyes unfocused. It would make more sense that way. Yet, what justice was this? Did she have to love me for that? Was it inevitable? The more I tried to make it possible, the smaller the possibility seemed.

I had saved her, though.

Maybe it wasn’t mortality she granted me…in that sense, at least. Had she not saved the life of the very man who wanted to destroy her? I wanted to kill him, wanted his blood so viciously it still burned, and yet his blood would never be on my hands. Because of her.

If I could save her from myself, could she do the same for me? Save me from my own monstrous nature?

The movie paused; she stretched gratefully and met my gaze, surprised. I could not bear to tear my eyes from her face, trying to gain an answer from her eyes, black in the darkness. She blinked against the lights flickering back to life, but I held focus.

She had reanimated that same soft, bewildered look; though I was wasting time, I was now in no mood to quiz her. Wrestling with questions of higher purpose always confused and frustrated me.

We walked in silence to the gymnasium. The familiar pain rose in me, channeling itself into my hand; I could not resist stroking her face, temple to jaw, though I used the back of my hand. I walked away carefully, still distracted.

I watched her grudgingly through Newton’s eyes at first, then switched to Ashley Parker’s, on the opposing team. She was an athlete, mercilessly using Bella’s lack of skill to her advantage. Still, they barely lost. This only made Newton more sullen. He cast looks at Bella often; Ashley decided he resented the poor sportsmanship she showed.

Bella raced to the dressing room, face pink. I stopped it there, unwilling to invade any privacy. When I saw her, it would be just us, alone…. But of course, that was impossible. I gritted my teeth.

I met her again and we automatically turned to the parking lot; I noted that her left sock was inside out, and it made me smile. She must have hurried to get dressed.

Now was the time for her impression of home. She painted beautiful pictures in my mind, speaking of things entirely alien to me. I’d never been to Arizona as a human, and it was not exactly an inconspicuous place for me now. There were scents, sounds, sensations she described with loving care. It was open, as she said, and again I thought of the South as Jasper remembered it; it was the only way I could visualize a sky that big. The urge to run there, to visit, filled me again. Surely there would be no human occupants in the middle of the desert? I wanted to see it in the daylight, to feel the blistering heat she loved, to see the pure blue sky. I wanted to lie with her beneath the blanket of stars, sand still warm against our backs.

I did not understand the beauty at first; what joy could there be in the raw, exposed earth, caked and dry? But once I did, I understood Bella so much more. Truly, home was where the heart lives.

She described her small bedroom, painted light blue like the sky outside, usually disorganized, full to the brim of books. I smiled, imagining her there. Of course, I did not want her to go back, but I could see it; the sun streaming in, warming her skin as she curled up with an Austen novel opened in front of her. Renee and Phil in the living room, providing pleasant ambient conversation. The rush of Phoenix traffic, the buzzing of insects outside, the desert scents wafting through the window….

I noted the time with displeasure. She stopped talking, and then turned in surprise. “Are you finished?” She sounded relieved.

“Not even close—but your father will be home soon.”

“Charlie!” The word was distant, almost foreign on her tongue. Apparently, she had been as transported as I was. She glanced at the darkened sky outside, pouring rain onto the metal above our heads. “How late is it?” The clock glowed on the dashboard, answering her question.

“It’s twilight,” I said, almost unconsciously. Clouds hugged the western horizon, bleeding above the trees. As I watched, the sun set. In Arizona, surely the sun was out longer. No wonder she hated this place.

Again, the desire for her to know me spurred a continuation. “It’s the safest time of day for us, but also the saddest, in a way…the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so predictable, don’t you think?” I smiled, sure that she disliked the cold of the night just as I resented its dullness, after decades of hiding in it.

Of course, she surprised me.

“I like the night,” she said seriously. “Without the dark, we’d never see stars…. Not that you see them much here,” she added, glaring at the cloudy sky above.

I laughed at that tiger-kitten fury, aimed for water vapor far above. She was so unpredictable, so endearing. Her existence was a never-ending puzzle, a deepening whirlpool I could not—and did not want to—escape.

She grinned at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She was so breathtakingly beautiful. I could not understand how I had survived without her until now.

Charlie’s approaching tires—louder than his thoughts, the mystery _his_ brain was—broke through my joy. I hated to see her go; it became more painful every time, exponentially increasing. Alice was right. I could not leave her now. I would justify anything to spend the rest of her life by her side.

“Charlie will be here in a few minutes.” I frowned slightly. “So, unless you want to tell him you’ll be with me Saturday….” I raised an eyebrow, imploring her to listen to me. Of course, I already knew what her answer would be.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” she said lightly. She gathered her books and her half-finished English assignment, abandoned when she’d started using her hands to describe the sharp line of the mountains. She moved slowly, almost painfully; I realized she was stiff, and felt remorse. I should have reminded her to shift.

Her eyes met mine; she seemed to not notice the discomfort. “So is it my turn tomorrow, then?”

I had crossed off about a third of my list, disregarding the questions she’d raised with her answers. “Certainly not!” I would have been irate; what had I told her a few minutes ago? It was, however, impossible to be upset with her over something so trivial. “I told you I wasn’t done, didn’t I?”

“What more is there?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her lips pouted.

“You’ll find out tomorrow.” I smiled at her stubbornness. Because Charlie was so close, I reached across her instead of walking around the car to open her door. Just as I pulled it, two new voices registered.

The first was childish, excited to see Bella…interested in her, I was very displeased to realize. His appreciation of the car did nothing to dispel the fury that ripped through me.

The second, a Quileute elder. Billy Black, who had correctly assumed the shiny car meant a Cullen.

“Not good,” I murmured to myself.

“What is it?” Bella was shocked…by my tone, I supposed. She could not be surprised by the bad luck she carried with her anymore.

“Another complication.” My jaw was hard, trying to listen to the old man’s intentions. He was considering involving Charlie, if his guess was correct, but was afraid of his reaction; a brief flashback played through his head of the Chief defending my family. It had been tense between them since.

I opened the door, nearly launching it away from the car in my hurry. I swiftly pulled away from Bella, though the craving to touch her face was almost intolerable.

She glanced at me, curiosity and confusion battling in her eyes, as headlights bore down on us. Jacob Black parked the car.

“Charlie’s around the corner,” I said curtly, staring at the old man in the front seat. He was glaring at me, his face nearly white, his thoughts almost incoherent with fear. His eyes flickered to Bella as she bolted out, rain pelting her instantly. She glanced back at me, but I was too angry with the old man to acknowledge her. She needed to get inside.

As soon as she was safely away, I squealed my tires against the pavement, disappearing before the two men exited their car.

Though the rain muted my hearing, thunderous as it was, I could hear them from a block over. The car doors slammed. I parked, choosing to monitor the situation through the old man’s head. My mind raced, trying to figure out how to prevent him from scaring Charlie. But, maybe, this was the exact thing that could help Bella understand the danger.

Even as I thought that, I knew there was no way I would allow her to leave my sight. She could choose not to associate with me, as was healthy, but she needed a protector still.

My empty chest ached as I considered that future.

Billy stared at his son, greeting Bella in the rain. _Poor kid doesn’t know what’s good for him._ He switched his focus to Bella, soaked through already. _Does she know? There’s no way she does. Jacob knows better than to spread around our stories to outsiders. Did they tell her? What do they want with her? Why Bella?_

She turned, obviously concerned about his expression. Soul-crushing fear for her consumed Billy; he’d watched her grow up, heard about her constantly from Charlie. He knew her father loved her far too much to lose her.

And, in his mind, she was uncomfortably close to being lost.

She smiled hesitantly, but he did not return it. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked down; that all but decided Billy.

_She may not know how, but she knows they’re different. How could you not, being around those leeches? It’s unnatural. It’s my birthright to fight for human lives…even if this is technically their land. Not her. Not Bella._

The familiar phrase hurt me. What was I _doing_? I was risking so much! She had so many friends, so much family, to love her. A line of suitors. Why could I not be selfless, leave her to live her normal, human existence? Even as I mourned, I knew I could not bear to do that. Not unless she wanted me to.

Charlie arrived; greetings were exchanged, then they fled into the house, out of the pouring rain. I noted with pleasure the discomfort and…remorse? on Bella’s face when Billy announced that Jacob had wanted to see her again.

I had to switch to Jacob’s thoughts as he followed her into the kitchen; I ground my teeth together at his obvious intentions. He was pressing her for details, wondering—with a jealous edge—who rendered his gift obsolete.

He gathered plates at her request, then grew weary of the game.

_“So who was it?”_

_Damn, but she looks guilty! Are there any convicts in Forks? Or maybe, she’s upset because she rather would have ridden home with me…. Too bad I go to school on the rez…._

_“Edward Cullen.”_

_Oh. No wonder Dad was goin’ batshit in there. Looked like he’d seen a ghost. Just because they’re…strange, I guess, doesn’t mean they’re bad. He’ll never listen to that logic, of course. Embarrassing old man. He’d better not do anything to upset Bella tonight._ A strong surge of jealousy coursed through him. _I’m not surprised one of them noticed Bella, though._

His eyes lingered on her soft lips, taking in the way her jeans hugged her hips. I gritted my teeth.

_“Guess that explains it, then. I wondered why my dad was acting so strange.”_

She looked at him with wide, opaque eyes. _“That’s right. He doesn’t like the Cullens.”_ Her voice was an octave too high, but Jacob didn’t notice.

_“Superstitious old man.” I swear to God, if he says anything to Charlie…messes up so I can’t come see her again…._

Her thoughts followed his. _“You don’t think he’d say anything to Charlie?”_

_I don’t love how concerned she sounds. Is he her secret boyfriend or something? There was obvious chemistry between them…._ He thought back to us, in the car. The way I looked at her all but confirmed my devotion. _“I doubt it. I think Charlie chewed him out pretty good last time. They haven’t spoken much since—tonight is sort of a reunion, I think. I don’t think he’d bring it up again.”_

_“Oh.”_

The rest of the evening was uneventful; Billy was, as Jacob had assumed, too afraid that Charlie would yell at him again to involve Bella’s father. Jacob remained obnoxious, talking Bella’s ear off, but she was distracted, listening to the conversation between their fathers. When the visitors were leaving, Jacob wistfully asked if Bella was headed back to the beach. Jealousy infused my entire being. She waved him off easily, though, still keeping a careful eye on Billy.

_“You take care, Bella.” It would crush Charlie if you got hurt. And Jacob, apparently, as well._

_“Thanks.”_

They left, headed back the way they came. I breathed a sigh of relief; the rain had lessened, so it was much easier to hear Charlie asking Bella about her day. I waited, hopeful, but she didn’t mention me. He asked why Bella hadn’t asked Mike Newton to the dance, and I became irritable all over again. Bella quickly countered that he was dating somebody else. Charlie said he planned a fishing trip Saturday. She told him nothing he didn’t already know.

Bella could not be more reckless, could she?

When the sound of running water came from the bathroom, I left.


	2. Balancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, we all know that Stephenie Meyer has announced Midnight Sun's release date! I hope that you still enjoy this take until August, and I hope it sees you through until then. Question: how many times can we read the same story? Answer: as many times as people will write it.  
> Thank you so much for your time and the love you show this! It truly means the world.

Carlisle, Esme, and Alice were in the living room, going over some relief plans for a third-world country. Sometimes, they were too…good.

  
“Charlie Swan is friends with a Quileute elder,” I announced.

  
They all looked up, shocked.

  
“What happened?” Alice demanded. “I didn’t see anything….”

  
So, he had failed to change her mind. Relief flowed through me, though I knew it was purely selfish. “Nothing did happen. Apparently, Charlie and Billy fought last time he brought it up. He mentioned that some on the reserve don’t go to Carlisle’s work anymore. Charlie told him, essentially, to keep his superstitions to himself.”

  
Carlisle’s brow furrowed. “I hate to be the cause of animosity amongst friends.”

  
I shrugged. “Billy went over to Charlie’s tonight. They’re fine. I don’t like how freely they spread around our stories, though. Though Jacob didn’t mean for Bella to know, his father had more serious intentions. He warned Bella about me…though discretely, because Charlie was there.”

  
“I’ll watch more carefully,” Alice promised. _I hate it when I miss things!_

  
“It didn’t change anything,” Esme comforted her. “How can you see something that isn’t there?”

  
“That’s all I’ve ever seen,” Alice grumbled.

  
“I just wanted you to know. There is no danger yet. I, however, don’t want to leave Forks.” I changed clothes again, frustrated by the night. It reminded me of Bella’s defensiveness on its behalf; she was an entire mystery. I would never tire of attempting to unravel the puzzle she presented. It was, still, entirely unfair that I had to wait to do so, contained by her need to sleep. Of course, that is what I wanted for her. Mortality.

  
This was precisely the situation I’d managed to avoid, since Bella had consumed my nights. True, my thoughts now wrestled with morality instead of boredom…. I couldn’t decide which one was worse. How I longed for the old philosophical debates Carlisle and I had, back when neither of us had real emotional investment in them! It was all fine and good accepting my own demise, but I had never expected to find somebody like Bella.

  
So, I’d try again tonight. If there was a god that listened, I would have prayed the electricity didn’t show up again; as it was, I unenthusiastically hunted. There was a herd of deer not far into the forest; it was so easy, it was boring. After I’d drained the deer, I carried the corpse a few more miles north, leaving easy picking for scavengers. I doubted they would go near it until my scent faded a bit, but we always covered our tracks.

  
Not nearly enough time had passed.

  
I launched myself into the upper branches of a moss-covered tree and sat, staring up at the giant moon above me, cloaked by wispy clouds. I had to hold out hope for a cure. Carlisle had to do his research, his debating. Again, I wished I could join him, but this situation was one I was too involved in to be impartial with. Esme, I knew, just wanted me to be happy.

  
In many ways, she was like my human mother….

  
I sifted through muddy, fading human memories. My last memory of her alive was painful, both of us gaunt and dying. Twin sicknesses robbed us of health, of life, of each other. She had always been so concerned about the war killing me that she’d never considered the pandemic until it was too late. It was funny—she had always worried so much, sometimes enough to give herself ulcers. In some ways, she reminded me of myself, fretting constantly over Bella.

  
Even then, I’d been sensitive to the perceptions of others. She was uncomfortable around Dr. Cullen, yet utterly calmed by his bedside manner. She was a proper woman of the church. The only thing she loved more than God was me. I don’t know how she guessed it; I didn’t know what he was even as he bit me. All I knew of him was his compassion.

  
For so long, I’d looked at this second life as a half-life, satanic, been resentful at her for cursing me to it. It helped that Carlisle had God-fearing roots. His companionship was better than dying of the influenza, undoubtedly, but I had become resigned to my misery as the years went on. I could not bear Bella to resent me, remorseful as I had become about that judgement of my mother’s last gift. Still, I wish it had been her to be snatched from death.

Though I doubted human eyes could perceive them, stars glistened behind the wispy veil of clouds. Again, I was intrigued by Bella’s fond mention of the cosmos. Could I survive up there? I seriously doubted anything could kill me unless I happened along a star. What would the vacuum of space be like? Of course, thousands of images of a pale-white man with no space gear walking on the moon would be highly suspicious. NASA and the Volturi would have a race to kill me. A second space race. I chuckled humorlessly.

  
I wished Bella were here. Her skin would be glowing, her voice silky…what could be a more romantic first kiss?

  
Ah. This was exactly the precautions I had to take. My imagination had been getting out of hand lately, and I could not afford to entertain ideas like that. The thought of being so close to her neck still made venom flow, but it filled me more with a sense of dread. She was too delicate, to perfect, to touch. I’d hardly held her hand!

  
The thought reminded me of the low lights of La Bella Italia, her hand unerringly seeking mine, of the intoxicating warmth….

  
My eyes, which had wandered to the dark treetops in front of me, returned to the moon.

  
How I wished I were human.

Bella slept peacefully through the night. The strange electricity did not make a reappearance, and I had to give up my far-fetched dream of such easily regained mortality. She spoke less than usual, sleeping more deeply than I’d observed before. I supposed our conversation had some effect; at one point, she mumbled, “It’s too _green_.”

  
Shortly before five-thirty, I stood up. Her face was angelic, peacefully unaware. I moved my porcelain hand close, wrestling with myself.

  
My better side lost; I gently stroked her cheekbone and whispered, far too quietly for her to hear, “I’ll be right back.”

  
Changing my clothes and retrieving my car was habit at this point. Rosalie didn’t even bother to grumble about taking the M3; we all knew she loved it, anyway.

  
Before I left, I stopped in front of Alice, occupying herself with an episode of “That’s So Raven” while Jasper absent-mindedly stroked her hair, eyes closed. “Does hunting tonight better my chances of Bella surviving this weekend?”

  
She blinked up at me. “I’m almost ninety-three percent sure she’ll be safe. You should put more faith in yourself, Edward.”

  
“So…no?”

  
She smiled. “It can’t hurt, can it? I’ll come with you. We can leave school early—it’s Friday, after all!”

  
“Hm. I’m afraid I’ll miss something important in class.” I chuckled at the thought.

  
“Yay! It’s a date. Go be with Bella.”

It wasn’t yet raining when I arrived at Charlie’s house. Bella bounded out of the door almost immediately after I had parked. The perk in her step made me laugh; she had more energy than I’d yet seen. I supposed this meant the current had been absent for her, as well.

  
She skidded into the car, thrusting it open as if I were an ice water on a hot Arizona afternoon. Her eyes, always so warm, positively smoldered as she gazed at me. Her heart stuttered and her lungs stopped; before I could get too concerned, they both restarted and she clicked her seatbelt into place.

  
“How did you sleep?” I asked, my tone not betraying the intensity of my curiosity. Would the mysteries of Bella Swan never cease? What had caused, and what had ended, that electricity? The source, she was always the source of inexplicable and magical things.

  
“Fine. How was your night?”

  
I marveled at her casual demeanor. Even the slight change of wording betrayed how…normal this all was to her. I wondered what she _thought_ my nights were like.

  
“Pleasant.” Much better than the night before, when she’d nearly caught me trespassing. I could hardly contain my grin; being around her was elating.

  
Curiosity sparked in her eyes. “Can I ask what you did?”

  
_Can I ask what you think I did without you pressing the subject further?_

  
“No.” Even this simple denial took effort. She should have anything she wanted. However, I had a brain to pick. “Today is still _mine_.”

  
There had been a sort of sad conception that I wanted to buff out; her mother seemed to be more like a child than she could have ever been. As responsible as she was, I was not surprised it had turned out that way; I did not want to judge the woman too harshly, but many people were not equipped for the children they brought into the world.

  
“Tell me about your mother.”

  
“What would you like to know?” She had obviously not been expecting that.

  
“What is her defining trait, in your opinion?”

  
She furrowed her eyebrows, concentrating. “Hm. She’s quite convoluted. I’m not sure…can I pick the top three?”

  
“Of course.” I turned to smile softly at her; she nervously glanced at the road. I stifled the urge to laugh aloud, knowing it would disrupt her.

  
“Well, she’s…impulsive, but incredibly kind, and very…uh…imaginative.”

  
“How do you mean?”

  
She laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Her eyes watched her hands, twisting a silver ring she’d adorned one slender finger with. “Everything about her is idealistic. She bases everything on fancy, especially her cooking. I didn’t learn for nothing!” She smiled at me, meeting my eyes. “Of course, it’s not a skill you can appreciate much,” she continued, teasing.

  
I raised an eyebrow. “Mm, I would have to agree with you there. However, I am positive you are wonderful at it.”

  
“Charlie appreciates it enough. I don’t understand how he didn’t starve before I moved here.”

  
We were at the school already; I’d never realized how fast I drove until it cut my time down with Bella. There was still a few minutes before class. It hadn’t started raining yet; crossing at human speed, I reached Bella’s door and opened it. It was safer if she could hear the bells, as I was too entirely wrapped up in her intoxicating presence.

  
As she stepped out, I asked, “How do her likes compare to yours?”

  
Bella peered up at me, seemingly confused. “We definitely agree on weather.” She glanced at the sky, then quickly amended, “But honestly, the rain is growing on me.”

  
“Huh. What about books, movies? Did she introduce you to the classics?”

  
I leaned casually against the hood of my car, an automatic habit. We worked so hard to ingrain little markers of humanity. It was instinct now.

  
Bella copied suit, edging slightly closer to me. She was so small compared to me; I absolutely towered over her. A fierce protective instinct swept through me again, the same as the first day I’d seen her. What I would not do for her!

  
She was still processing the question…I thought. Her eyes gazed into mine, slightly blank. Her heartbeat was uneven, thumping hard in her chest.

  
“Oh, no. Did I daze you again?”

  
Her heart stuttered, then picked up. She looked away, pink staining her cheeks. Although I was close enough to _feel_ the rush of blood, it only registered as a heightened concern for self-control. I could not have imagined it would ever be this easy to resist her scent.

  
“You’d think I would get used to it,” she muttered. I grinned.

  
The bell went off. I could not have imagined that high school could get any worse than never-ending monotony, and yet…. Again, I entertained the idea of switching my schedule around. Was that too strange? Too inhuman? I could not imagine anybody who would not want to spend every moment with her, but I also did not want to scare her.

  
“Your chariot awaits.” Somberly, I offered her my hand. She stared at it.

  
Feeling unsure, I let it drop. A sadness touched her eyes; I wanted to offer my hand again, but I was too afraid of a second rejection.

  
My stomach lurched as we walked in silence—how could I be that _nervous_? Listening to the uneven thumping of her heart, I thought she may be feeling the same way. I had no experience with this, had no skill navigating stages of touch, of love…. At the same time, everything was so natural with her.

  
In the brief periods between class, I learned about her grandmother—I was concerned at her obvious grief brought about by her passing. Yet another reason I could not subject her to this half-life. She would be broken if she had to suffer the loss of any loved one. Though she was verbally distant with her father, I only assumed she loved him almost as much as I loved Carlisle.

  
I watched her, of course, through others’ eyes throughout the day. She often seemed speculative, yet she had a far-away look in her eyes. Perhaps she was preparing for my interrogation; I could not think of anything else she’d not deduced yet. She was so incredibly perceptive, I wondered if she could answer her questions better than I myself could.

  
My jealous nature got the best of me outside of Spanish. I’d been debating—antagonizing over, if I were to be honest—the possibility of her leaving a significant other back in Phoenix. Also, if she had close friends to visit, I could not follow here there to keep her safe, not in the daytime.

  
She walked through the door, her face lighting up as she saw me residing against the wall opposite to the door. How she could look so _happy_ to see a monster….

  
I pushed aside the thought and joined her, answering her smile with one of my own.

  
“Hi,” she said automatically.

  
“Hi. What was your social life like in Phoenix?”

  
She laughed. “I should have known that it wasn’t over yet. Really, I’m not that interesting.”

  
My smile widened. “Well, since I can’t know you through my more conventional manners, I have to do things the old-fashioned way.”

  
She raised her eyebrow, her dark eyes full of questions, but did not remark. Instead, she sighed and said, “I had a couple of friends, but nobody close. I’m honestly surprised I get along so well with people here. They weren’t that sad to see me go; nobody emails me or anything.”

  
“That is the ultimate folly.” I laughed, but the sound had an edge to it. I wasn’t sure if she could detect it. “So, no secret boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

  
She flushed, a brilliant crimson flooding her cheeks. “No. I was always on the periphery, and I liked it that way. Everybody was just…wrong for me.”

  
I considered that. “So you never met anyone you wanted?” How cruel, to make the one person she _did_ seem to want also wrong for her, in more ways than any mundane mortal could be.

  
She glanced at me, worry crossing her face. There was another emotion, defiance or resentment in her eyes. “Not in Phoenix.”

  
Hm. That should not please me as much as it did.

  
She took a bite of her bagel; time moved so swiftly when I was with her. That was all I wanted, but one need was stronger….

  
I sighed internally. I supposed now was a good time to stop my questions.

  
“I should have let you drive yourself today.” I was glum, already depressed considering being apart from her.

  
Surprise and anger flashed across her face, then were replaced by sadness. “Why?” The tiger-kitten fury was back, but not stronger than ever.

  
“I’m leaving with Alice after lunch.” No need to mention what the rest of them thought.

  
“Oh.” She blinked several times, then looked at her bagel. “That’s okay, it’s not that far of a walk.”

  
She really thought I would make her walk in the rain? She either assumed me to be the most unchivalrous man on the planet, or she still was deluding herself into thinking I loathed her existence.

  
Impatience tempered my tone, and I could feel the corners of my mouth turn down. “I’m not going to make you walk home. We’ll go get your truck and leave it here for you.”

  
“I don’t have my key with me.” She sighed and started playing with that silver ring again. “I really don’t mind walking.”

  
Of course not; she would never inconvenience anybody but herself.

  
I shook my head impatiently, angered again by her poor self-preservation instincts. She’d catch pneumonia, or _another_ van would attempt to steal the core of my universe from me.

  
“Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition—unless you’re afraid someone might steal it.” The thought of somebody wanting to take the truck—and the slow pace of the would-be getaway car—made me chuckle.

  
“Alright.” Her teeth ground together slightly, and there was a challenge in her tone. She greatly underestimated my sense of smell, and the speed of Alice’s visions. All she had to do was decide on where to start looking, and she’d see their location eventually. I smiled at her; she had much to learn about us still.

  
“So where are you going?” Her tone was wistful, but she was obviously making an effort to stifle the tone.

  
I was instantly serious. “Hunting.” Then, because she didn’t look scared, I added, “If I’m going to be alone with you tomorrow, I’m going to take whatever precautions I can.” Her expression, and her heartbeat, remained unmoved. Would she truly never perceive how dangerous I was? Alice’s vision in the meadow could _not_ come to pass. And it would be guaranteed to if she didn’t come with me. Of course, that would make me miserable. What a classic tragedy my life was!

  
“You can always cancel, you know.” My gaze locked onto hers, pleading with her to make the decision for me. For herself.

  
She looked down; her heart thumped unevenly now.

  
“No, I can’t.” She glanced up at me, gauging my reaction.

  
Of course she couldn’t. I was far too persuasive, and this was exactly the reason I knew I should not be involved with her. Humans were intrigued by us, fascinated, yet usually that was tempered with fear and self-preservation—two emotions Bella did not seem capable of. Had I already damned her?

  
“Perhaps you’re right.” Would I even be strong enough to keep away from her, if she did?

  
“What time will I see you tomorrow?” she asked. Alarmed by the sudden bleakness of her tone, I looked at her. Her eyes were downcast, her eyebrows pulled together. She was still spinning that ring. I desperately did not want to leave her on a sour note.

  
“That depends…it’s a Saturday, don’t you want to sleep in?” I did not want to wait even longer in the morning to see her, but she did have human needs.

  
“No,” she answered quickly. I refrained from smiling, though I could not help marvel in the fact that, despite everything, she wanted to see me again.

  
“The same time as usual, then.” I wanted to go earlier, but that would be no good…for her. Then, “Will Charlie be there?” He hadn’t mentioned what time he would depart. It would be healthy for both of us if he knew.

  
“No, he’s fishing tomorrow.” A sunny smile lit her face, reaching her eyes. She was so heartbreakingly beautiful. Why did the thought of her own demise sit so well?

  
“And if you don’t come home, what will he think?”

  
“I have no idea,” she retorted, angry. “He knows I’ve been meaning to do the laundry. Maybe he’ll think I fell in the washer.”

  
I had never met another person so hell-bent on their own destruction! And the _manner_ in which she presented it, so casually, without a thought of the pain her father would be put through! I scowled at her, trying to impress in her that I was not altogether safe. She only mirrored my expression. God, but she was stubborn.

  
“What are you hunting tonight?” Her expression softened into her question. Curiosity raged in her eyes again.

  
“Whatever we find in the park. We aren’t going too far.”

  
Every time she spoke, she surprised me. She never seemed disconcerted with my nature. As…healing, as it was, it was also concerning. What had Carlisle seen on her CT scan again?

  
“Why are you going with Alice?”

  
Leave it to her to ask the questions I most did not wish to answer. Why did it even occur to her? Yet we had no more secrets between us, and I reveled in her trust, no matter how ill-deserved.

  
“Alice is the most…supportive.” Perhaps it would be too scary to tell her that the others would like to kill her. Of course, she _needed_ to be afraid, to understand the constant danger she was in around my kind, no matter how practiced.

  
“And the others? What are they?”

  
God.

  
“…Incredulous, for the most part.”

  
She looked over her shoulder; the movement blasted me again with her scent. I tried to imagine them as she saw them: four perfect angels sitting together, speaking so lowly that no human could hear, looking utterly bored as they gazed at various spots in the cafeteria.

  
“They don’t like me.” Her voice was sad but resigned.

  
Ha! They didn’t dislike her. They merely did not understand my fascination, my reckless endangerment of our secret, my absolute selfishness. She simply was not worth it to them, because none of them were drawn to her the way I was.

  
“That’s not it. They don’t understand why I can’t leave you alone.”

  
She grimaced. “Neither do I, for that matter.”

  
Rosalie had been keeping mental tabs on our conversation—she snorted. Alice flashed her a look. Jasper and Emmett seemed unmoved, but were both tense.

  
Bella was waiting, staring at me. She never saw anything for what it was. I rolled my eyes dramatically, inclining my head to the heavens before meeting her gaze again. “I told you—you don’t see yourself clearly at all. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known.” I, too, was capable of knowing everybody I met with more intimacy than most priests. “You fascinate me.”

  
Anger marred her expression. I almost laughed at how absurd she was.

  
“Having the advantages I do,” I continued, tapping my forehead softly, “I have a better than average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you…you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise.”

  
She seemed bothered by that; her gaze drifted back to my siblings. Pink colored her cheeks. For the life of me, I could not figure why I had upset her. Perhaps it was a resurgence of her dislike of being analyzed, to being set apart from her peers. She was, though, by her own right, set apart. She was so easy to love.

  
“That part is easy enough to explain,” I amended, watching her face closely for forgiveness. “But there’s more…and it’s not so easy to put into words—”

  
I was aware of Rosalie’s building tension, noticing Bella’s eyes on the four of them. Her anger, though petty, was impressive in its vigor. My words did not bring Bella’s gaze back to my face, though, and Rosalie suddenly snapped.

  
She turned to glare at Bella. A stream of vulgarities and insults stormed through her mind, and she put all of the internal aggression into her gaze. I glanced at Bella, hoping she would look away and let Rosalie have her tantrum without an audience, but she seemed to be frozen. Her heart sped up, then stopped.

  
I hissed angrily, struggling to keep the volume in check.

  
_Fuck off_ , Rosalie thought viciously, but turned her head.

  
Bella looked at me as soon as Rosalie’s blonde curls were rightly blocking her face again. Her brown eyes were full of fear, a first, and yet I found I was not glad for it at all. The fact that she needed reassurance from one hostile look both made me fonder and more protective of her. It also made me want to rip Rosalie apart.

  
“I’m sorry about that.” My voice was low, comforting, but my wrath was brimming. “She’s just worried. You see…it’s dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly….” I looked at my hands, unable to finish the thought aloud. Alice’s vision swam before my eyes again—my eyes bloodred, Bella’s broken body in my hands….

  
Her voice broke my revere, rough but quiet.

  
“If?”

  
_Tell her_ , Rosalie taunted. I refrained from hissing again, sure it would alarm Bella. _She deserves to know what’s coming._

  
When I got home, I was going to kill her.

  
“If this ends…badly.” _With your blood on my hands, in my eyes. If I cannot control the monster that resided in every cell of my being._ Unable to stand the mental torture, I dropped my head into my hands. I did not want Bella to see me so broken, so utterly defenseless at the thought of losing her. It would make it harder for her to walk away if she ever made the right decision.

  
She lifted her hand, then dropped it onto the table softly. Her heart sped up; I wondered idly what she was thinking about, but the pain still wracked through every fiber of me.

  
Silence stretched between us. I could not think of a way to break it, nor was I ready to lift my head. I heard Bella quietly shift her head, in the direction of the large cafeteria clock.

  
“And you have to leave now?” She sounded so sad.

  
“Yes.” With effort, I raised my head and met her gaze. Keep it light. I shifted my expression, though the pain was not yet diminished. I smiled at her. “It’s probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology—I don’t think I could take any more.” And I did not want to ponder on its meaning.

  
Alice stopped behind Bella. _Please let me be her friend already!_

  
I shook my head, smiling slightly despite myself.

  
Bella started when she noticed her and stared, taken aback by her brilliance.

  
_Fine. But it_ will _happen eventually._

  
I didn’t have to read her mind to understand the double meaning.

  
“Alice,” I greeted her, for Bella’s sake.

  
“Edward.” She wanted to be a brat. That was fine.

  
Because it would be rude not to, I introduced them. Alice was bouncing internally, excited to finally meet her new best friend. She upset me slightly, referring to her ability, but Bella seemed unperturbed, though definitely shy.

  
“Are you ready?” She was impatient, ready to leave now so that she could scold me about her inaccessibility to Bella.

  
I groaned internally. How many times would I have to tell her no?

  
“Nearly. I’ll meet you at the car.”

  
Bella watched her leave, a strange expression on her face. Probably noticing too much, as always. Not that there was anything left to understand. However, maybe she could get to the bottom of why Alice was so pushy sometimes.

  
She turned to me as the cafeteria doors closed behind Alice. “Should I say ‘have fun’, or is that the wrong sentiment?”

  
I nearly laughed. She was so unexpectedly funny sometimes; I had never seen my condition as anything but bleak before her. “No, ‘have fun’ works as well as anything.”

  
“Have fun, then.” Her voice was too peppy. It made me happy that she would miss me.

  
“I’ll try. And you try to be safe, please.” I couldn’t help but remind her, with her fragility so obviously visible.

  
“Safe in Forks—what a challenge.” She rolled her eyes.

  
“For you it is a challenge.” I gritted my teeth, staring at her intensely. I did not want to, but I would cancel the hunting trip to ensure her safety. Alice would be angry. “Promise.”

  
“I promise to try to be safe.” She sounded hollow, almost bored. A sarcastic note crept in as she added, “I’ll do the laundry tonight—that ought to be fraught with peril.”

  
“Don’t fall in.”

  
“I’ll do my best.”

  
She rose when I stood, sighing. She looked at my abandoned seat, then toward my face.

  
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She was so despondent! I considered offering visiting her tonight, but quickly discarded the idea. We were short on time, and I wanted her to be able to ask questions when that particular subject was broached.

  
“It seems like a long time to you, doesn’t it?” I guessed.

  
She nodded, eyes not leaving my face. Her bottom lip jutted out slightly. If she was any more beautiful, I would combust on the spot.

  
“I’ll be there in the morning,” I comforted her. Sooner than that, but she didn’t know that. I couldn’t resist trailing my hand against her perfect cheekbones again. Her eyes were on my back until I left the cafeteria.

“Finally,” Alice gripped. “You know, you could spend much more time with her without keeping me waiting if I was allowed near her.”

  
I rolled my eyes and climbed in. “Come on. We still need to get her truck.”

  
She sped out of the parking lot. “Well, I’ve already located the key. I can’t believe you’re rendering her truck so useless.”

  
“What choice do I have?” I grinned at her. “You can’t think I would willingly let her drive us to school in that museum artifact. We’d get there by sixth period, maybe.”

  
“Noble,” she noted.

  
I frowned.

  
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I began, but Alice cut me off, laughing.

  
“Edward, I am completely joking. I couldn’t stand it, either.” She shivered dramatically. “I’m not looking forward to driving it back to the school!”

  
“I can,” I offered. “After all, I see you grabbed my spare key today.”

  
She grinned and tapped her head. “It’s all in the foresight, brother.”

  
Alice flitted inside and back out, Bella’s key dangling from one bone-white finger. “That was too easy. She really does need to do laundry, though. It’s absolutely overflowing.”

  
“Noble,” I teased her.

  
She tossed me the key, harder than necessary, and I climbed in. The truck smelt strongly of tobacco, peppermint, and an unpleasant earthy smell I couldn’t quite place. I would have to have it checked for mold.

  
The drive back to the high school was infuriating. I drove the speed limit, as I was certain the old thing would crumble beneath me. It was a miracle I was able to keep my impatience in check. I parked in the empty space the Volvo had left while Alice idled nearby.

  
I turned off the old engine, relieved at the sudden silence. I was amazed its roar had not damaged Bella’s ears. Then, I pulled the note I had written earlier today from my pocket and set it on the seat. 

Between worrying for Bella’s safety and Alice’s complaints, the hunting trip was unpleasant. We found a herd of elk; they were easy picking, but not much fun at all.

  
“She’ll like me,” Alice said for the fifteenth time. “Please at least bring her to the house. Isn’t that a pretty integral part of a relationship? Meeting the parents?”

  
“She hasn’t let me meet Charlie yet,” I griped. Though I was past full, I caught the scent of another, better creature; racoons, though small, were omnivores.

  
It took seconds to catch and drain my desert. I always ensured the animals felt no pain; this was no different.

  
Alice caught up to me, wrinkling her tiny nose. “What good is that little thing?”

  
I laughed humorlessly. “It’s far better than Bella.”

  
She nodded in agreement, suddenly serious. “You’re right. You know, I’m not trying to get on your nerves. Contrary to your beliefs,” she said, giggling again. “Rosalie only lets me dress her up so much, and Esme doesn’t put up enough fight for it to be fun.”

  
“What makes you think Bella will be any different?”

  
“Oh, she’s just _waiting_ for somebody to introduce her to the world of fashion,” she said dreamily, eyes clouded over. “I’ll break her habits. At the very least, I’ll teach her to accessorize.”

  
“And you wonder why I protect her from you,” I said, shaking my head. “Honestly, the fact that you’re a vampire shouldn’t even faze her.”

  
Alice stuck her tiny tongue out at me. “Well, are you done? Don’t you have to get back in time to watch her sleep?”

  
I grimaced. “It’s not like that! I’m just making sure she’s alright.”

  
“Oh. Does she have monsters in her closet?” She grinned, taunting me.

  
I growled and took a step toward her.

  
She flitted fifty feet away, giggling. She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Beneath her bed, then? Edward, that is so chivalrous!”

  
“You torment me,” I answered, growling again.

  
Her thoughts were teasing, but I did sense the concern for Bella beneath them.

  
I sighed. “You’re absolutely right, of course. I do get incredibly anxious to see her, to ensure she’s safe, but the curiosity…. You have no idea. Imagine not being able to see someone’s future, constantly being infuriated by that fact…. And, miraculously, they _talk_ about their future in their sleep. It’s like that; I only have insight while she’s unconscious.”

  
She cocked her head. _You can read her while she’s asleep?_

  
I playfully threw a large chunk of rock at her. “It’s a metaphor, keep up.”

  
She dodged it easily, laughing. “All I’m saying is, it’s a little weird.”

  
I shrugged. “My curiosity is insatiable. And besides, I’m sure a bear would come through her window or something like that.” My thoughts flickered to the washing machine. “You don’t think that a human could die doing laundry, do you?” I asked, my voice too innocent.

  
It was Alice’s turn to throw a rock at me.

  
“Let’s go back,” she said, rolling her eyes. _You’ll give yourself an ulcer._

  
“I’m fairly sure that’s impossible.”

  
“You’d find a way.” She smiled softly. _Really, I am happy for you. I wish it was…less complicated._ Her thoughts flickered, very briefly, to Tanya. She glanced at me, gauging my reaction.

  
I only sighed and started back toward the car. “Me, too.” My thoughts, of course, were a million miles away from our Denali cousin….

That night was uneventful. Bella smelled…off, somehow. I associated the smell with sneezing and cough tablets, but she did not smell fully sick. I wondered if she had upset herself, stressing about potentially dying, but that simply did not sound like her.

  
I spent the morning in a state of agonized anticipation. What if she were truly sick, and needed to cancel? I would simply love the excuse to take care of her, run her a warm bath and cook soup for her. I would buy her all of the blankets she could ever hope for….

  
What if she didn’t cancel, and she died on me?

  
No, no. That was impossible. Alice would have seen it coming. Should I take her to Carlisle, just in case?

  
When I went home to retrieve my car, I made a point to find Alice. She was lost in thought, designing a new dress to release under her alias for the New York Fashion Week, so I was forced to seek her out.

  
“Hi,” I greeted her.

  
She nodded back at me, entirely devoted to the screen in front of her. When I didn’t move, she turned.

  
“I haven’t seen any changes,” she said. I watched the lovely vision, sated.

  
“Thanks.”

  
_Uh-oh,_ she thought. "What's wrong?"

  
I shook my head, but collapsed onto the floor. “I think she’s sick! She smelt like cold medicine….”

  
Alice raised an eyebrow. _Yeah._

  
Fuming, angry at myself, upset with Bella’s gratuitous drug use—what if she became addicted to something stronger? I would have to mention it! But how to bring it up?—I bolted to the garage. Alice laughed internally, then went back to her dress. _Alright, a cinch here…._

  
I could hear her eating as I drove up; I parked in the same spot as I had when Billy Black came calling. I was beyond agitated, nervous for everything that could go wrong. I listened to her clean up; when she went upstairs to clean her teeth, I moved my car into the driveway.

  
Should I go get her? It would scare her if I went in the usual way…. I could wait in the car. I did not want to seem overeager, but of course I was! This was a date, sort of; we had never said the word, but it was clear.

  
Or was it? I was almost positive she loved me, but was I projecting my own damned desires upon her? Her heart rate around me did increase (and cease) quite often…she never smelt of fear…damn it.

  
I climbed out of the car, anxiety making my movements almost clumsy, and knocked softly.

  
Inside, her heart sped up.

  
She stumbled down the stairs, fumbled with the locks, for seconds that were eternities. I was anxious to see her, to put a stop to the unease eating away, the horrible obsession with her health, and then….

  
Everything was tranquil. My eyes lingered on her face, taking in every aspect, and I was pleased to see she did not seem so tired as I had feared. She clearly was not sick. Her heartbeat returned to normal, and she did not smell like the medicine anymore….

  
She was exquisite. Her gold-tinged locks hung around her face, framing the delicate bone structure beautifully. A white collar laid against the tan sweater perfectly, as if Alice had smoothed it. Blue jeans drew the outfit together. I didn’t need to glance down at myself to laugh aloud. How did I not catch this in the vision?

  
I laughed as I backtracked; her outfit had not yet been decided, I saw. How incredibly like Bella.

  
“Good morning,” I said finally, laughing again beneath my breath. She heard it this time; her cheeks flooded with color instantly, and she whipped her head down to assess herself.

  
“What’s wrong?” Her heartbeat had sped up.

  
_Absolutely nothing, as I am here with you._

  
But of course, that is not the intent her words carried. “We match,” I said simply, laughing again.

  
She took in my outfit; I loved to have her eyes on me like this, seeing for once all the ways we were similar instead of staking out my inhuman traits. She chuckled with me, but her eyes seemed…sad? for a moment.

  
She shook her head, breaking out of the self-induced trance. To my relief, she remembered the door this time; I turned and marched determinedly to her dinosaur.

  
As she sauntered to the driver’s side, ruining the bravado slightly by catching her toe on the flat sidewalk, she smirked at me. “We made a deal.” She climbed into the seat and reached over to unlock my door.

  
As if I could forget. This drive would be so much longer than the hike.

  
“Where to?” she prompted, as I stared dramatically out the windshield. She turned to face me with her entire torso, as if this old antique wouldn’t bounce her around like a ping pong ball in a crash.

  
“Put your sealtbelt on—I’m nervous already.”

  
She threw me a dirty look, but fulfilled my request.

  
“Where to?” She already sounded defeated. Perhaps I should offer my car…. I glanced at her, at the hard set of her mouth, and rejected the tempting idea.

  
“Take the 101 North.”

  
Of course, being from Phoenix, she knew streets. Most people in this town drove by landmarks, if not by intuition. There were few places that were not within ten minutes of town. Of course, nobody knew my meadow’s location, not even my family; they each had their own spaces, and the meadow was mine. 

  
I glanced again at Bella. Better, the meadow was _ours_.

  
Impatient with the scenery crawling by, I stared at her face. This was ridiculous; did she really not mind traveling like a snail? Of course, the majestic creatures could go faster than this….

  
I glanced at the speedometer and forced back a derisive snort. “Were you planning to make it out of Forks by nightfall?” She would be cold if not, and the sun missed. Had Alice’s vision shifted?

  
Her cheeks filled with blood, but from the way her teeth ground together, I would assume it was due to anger. “This truck is old enough to be your car’s grandfather—have some respect,” she quipped.

  
_Precisely_ , I wanted to say, but refrained.

  
The landscape changed infuriatingly slow. Had I been traveling alone, I would be there by now. Of course, I did not want to go anywhere without her now. I shoved back my impatience and instead focused on her intoxicating scent, the heat of her closeness, the furrow between her eyebrows, her eyes, shifting constantly, driving so carefully.

  
Finally, the turn came up. “Turn right on the 110.” She’d opened her mouth but shut it, obediently making the turn.

  
I wanted to engage her. “Now we drive until the pavement ends.”

  
“And what’s there, at the pavement’s end?” She was speculative, but a note of fear tainted her voice. I was almost certain it was not fear for herself; she did not seem to have a fondness for the outdoors, but it wasn’t raining.

  
“A trail.”

  
“We’re hiking?”

  
Ah, there was the fear again. My silly Bella, always worried about the most trivial dangers.

  
“Is that a problem?” I fought to keep the victory of guessing her thoughts from my tone.

  
“No,” she lied.

  
“Don’t worry, it’s only five miles or so, and we’re in no hurry.”

  
Her heartbeat took flight, so fast I’d wondered if something had jumped into the road. It was clear, though, and color again painted her face. Would her closed-off, atypical mind ever become less frustrating?

  
She did not speak again and her heartbeat did not slow. She kept her eyes ahead, so I could not glean information from them. However, we were alone, so I could ask my fairly new yet still age-old question.

  
“What are you thinking?” I knew it was not her fault, yet I could not help my frustration. I suspected she was unhappy, and I did not want that.

  
“Just wondering where we’re going.” Her voice was too high, her eyes still on the road. Her shoulders were hunched, as if she were protecting herself from some unpleasantry.

  
“It’s a place I like to go when the weather is nice.” Or when I needed a break from my siblings’ infuriating thoughts. We both glanced at the sun, nearly visible through the wispy clouds.

  
“Charlie said it would be warm today.”

  
Against my better judgement, I hoped for a miracle. “And did you tell Charlie what you were up to?”

  
“Nope.” Too cheerful, always, at the thought of her own destruction.

  
“But Jessica thinks we’re going to Seattle together?”

  
I imaged it briefly, if I were human. We could go to the boardwalk, take the Space Needle elevator, eat the fudge they sold there, walk beneath the giant concrete train rails to start and laugh at one another when they passed overhead…. I could take her to the Crocodile Café and we could share a macchiato and lemon bread while a band played in the next room….

  
She shattered my daydream. “No, I told her you canceled on me—which is true.”

  
Of course, her no-lying policy, actively working in favor of her demise! I had never met a more frustrating person, and Emmett once had tried to master magic tricks for two decades straight.

  
“No one knows you’re with me?”

  
“That depends…I assume you told Alice?”

  
“That’s very helpful, Bella,” I nearly snarled. Of course she knew, but she knew both futures! She was too far away to do anything if the unspeakable happened…. What was Bella playing at?

  
“Are you so depressed by Forks that it’s made you suicidal?” I could hardly believe it, would never if I did not know her myself. I _was_ right to worry about the damn washing machine.

  
“You said it might cause trouble for you…us being together publicly.” She sounded so sad, but it only made me more angry. It was too easy to imagine Charlie’s grief, the Quileute retribution, the complete and utter heartbreak….

  
“So you’re worried about the trouble it might cause _me_ —if _you_ don’t come _home_?” I didn’t try to keep the resent from my voice. She needed to know she was being utterly stupid! She was the only one who could protect me from myself, and she didn’t care! She did not care if I destroyed her, destroyed myself, lost everything I had been working so hard to keep, not to mention the pain of our families…because, certainly, I could not live with myself. I would launch myself into the sun, if need be; anything to rid myself of the pain of losing her. Worse, of bringing about her own demise!

  
The bleak future, the one with her blood in my eyes, seemed closer than ever.

  
She only nodded.

  
“I never should have trusted myself with this,” I said bitterly, too fast for her to hear.

  
She said nothing more, and I was consumed in my own fury. Everything that could go wrong hovered over me; it was a malevolent chaos theory, based entirely on my own actions and the choices this infuriating human made! Nobody would know, and though suspicions would turn to me, my family could walk free. She did not seem to understand her appeal, her draw. Though I was well-acquainted with her blood, it still sung to me, constantly beckoning my sharp teeth. I fought back venom at the thought, disgusted and ashamed.

  
There still was no monster, he had entirely gone, but my body would betray me in an instant. It was a horrible addiction with no end, a relentless battle, and I knew it would never end. It would never, of course, be easier. Did I have to love her so much? Was this torture simply rebuttal, karma for the lives I’d taken?

  
It would end me to kill her now, but what choice did she leave me? Did she not understand how this situation balanced, dancing on tip-toe along a knife’s edge, teetering to and fro? Did she not understand how her clumsy, stupid actions blew like a cyclone, pushing me? Did she seriously want to die?

  
We’d come to a stop. Funny, I’d barely noticed; we were practically at a standstill the whole drive, anyway.

  
Even bullying her car made me weary. She climbed out hastily, glad to put space between us. I knew I was being unforgivably rude, but I simply could not draw my minds from the dark places it had wandered to.

  
She threw her face back, letting the sun’s rays soak her. How I envied her! She knotted the sweater around her waist; I removed mine and left it in the car.

  
The sun went behind a cloud, but I knew it would not last. My rage had not subsided, but I knew she would be angry with me. I needed her to see me in all of my inhuman horror, to fully understand the danger she was in. The threat that I posed. I undid my white button-down and hopped out, slamming the door harder than I had to.

  
“This way,” I called, glancing over my shoulder. Her shoulders were hunched, but more out of trepidation than mortal terror. I stared into the forest ahead of us, calculating the cloud’s speed above us.

  
“The trail?”

  
God! She was terrified now.

  
“I said there was a trail at the end of the road, not that we were taking it.”

  
“No trail?” She was going to hyperventilate soon. What about Darwinism? Shouldn’t she have better survival instincts? Her father was a _cop,_ for God’s sake!

  
“I won’t let you get lost,” I mocked. I turned to her, wanting to read her eyes. Did she really think I would leave her in the forest, alone and unprotected? Throw her to the wolves? Or was she finally afraid for her life?

  
The look in her eyes and the stutter of her heart told me that she was definitely not afraid of me.

  
As I watched, though, the Tanya-esque look in her eyes dimmed, replaced by an intense internal battle. Her eyes fizzled out and she seemed to sag; the life seemed to leave her before my eyes. It was my worst nightmare come to fruition, and I could not understand why.

  
“Do you want to go home?” My worst fears were confirmed. Though I’d constantly wished she would realize the threat I posed, run away from me without looking back, to have it come to pass was more painful than I could imagine.

  
She, of course, surprised me.

  
“No,” she said firmly and hurried to my side.

  
“What’s wrong?” I was baffled, reeling from my own internal battle to an entirely unknown, unexpected one of hers. If she wasn’t upset about me _killing_ her, what could possibly be on her mind?

  
“I’m not a good hiker. You’ll have to be very patient.” Her voice was hollow, echoing the devastation I’d seen in her eyes.

  
I was determined to cheer her up, to compensate for my inexcusable behavior. It wasn’t her fault she was mortal and so, so frustrating.

  
“I can be patient—if I make a great effort.” I grinned at her, holding her gaze, reading her eyes. She did not look away, but did not cheer up.

  
Could she be concerned about Charlie? Perhaps I had broken through to her, after all—it would make sense that she would worry about others’ pain.

  
“I’ll take you home,” I promised quietly. And suddenly, though I knew Alice was too far away to read, I knew that her vision had become one hundred percent certain.

  
“If you want me to hack five miles through the jungle before sundown, you’d better start leading the way.” Her tone and expression were suddenly so different—anger, resentment, and almost childlike insubordination. Could she be upset that I had misread her? Had I read her too accurately, and this was yet again an objection to being perceived?

  
I shook my head. It was time I listened, and lead.

  
The hike was easy for me; I desperately wanted to hold her hand under the guise of steading her, but I did not dare, with both of our moods already so unpredictable. As it was, I helped her over fallen logs, held ivy and moss sheets away from her head, provided a hand when she was crossing unstable rocks. Every time I touched her, her heart sped to almost unbelievable rates; it both excited me and shamed me.

  
We were quiet, still slightly at odds, but soon I could not resist the pull of her internal dialogue, her fascinating backstory. Her childhood, I decided, was fairly normal. I had agonized over the possibility of her wanting a pet; animals naturally distrusted my kind, and I did not have much of a liking for them, myself.

  
“Did you have any pets? I can imagine you fond of cats.” I released her as soon as her feet clambered back onto the ground, leaving the treacherous log behind her.

  
She laughed, but swung her hair into her face self-consciously. “I’m afraid of killing them.”

  
I nodded somberly. “I can understand that.”

  
She looked at me, shocked. “No…not like that. I just have a bad track record. I had three fish, and they all died horrible deaths.” She seemed so _sad_ , remembering her failure of mere goldfish!

  
“I have never eaten a household pet,” I clarified. “I’m sure your fish didn’t suffer.”

  
She took a deep breath, running a hand across her face and pushing her hair back.

  
“I forgot to put one back in its tank,” she said, as if she were admitting to laundering money and killing the president of a country. “It was horrible. I cried for three days.”

  
I couldn’t help but laugh. In the woods, unrestrained, it came out louder than I would have liked; the noise rang back. I glanced at her, ensuring that I had not frightened her.

  
No, she was not scared, but she was definitely embarrassed.

  
The light had been shifting; I knew the exact moment the sun had come out, could feel the air warm around us considerably. This was the closest she would come to Phoenix weather in Forks, and I rejoiced in the sun’s presence for her sake.

  
She seemed to pick up on my good mood, or the sun increased hers as well. She pretended to scowl at me, breaking into a full smile that was brighter than the highest noon. “Are we there yet?”

  
“Nearly.” I beamed back, elated by her teasing. “Do you see the brightness ahead?”

  
She squinted, her eyes flickering across the jade forest before us. “Um…should I?”

  
Involuntarily, I smirked. I couldn’t help teasing her again; “Maybe it’s a bit too soon for _your_ eyes.”

  
“Time to visit the optometrist,” she muttered. She was so funny when she wanted to be; I beamed again.

  
Even though she couldn’t see the sun yet, she seemed to sense it. Her legs moved faster; it was, of course, easy to match my pace to her quickened one, but she was in front of me now. I let her lead the way, nervous now about the sun. Her heartbeat raced and her breath came short. She did not seem winded though, and I decided she was excited. Probably thrilled about both the sun, and the hike ending.

  
Both her legs and her breath stopped short.

  
She stared, gazing across my meadow, a look of soft wonder lighting her features. A small breath left her lips; the wind kicked it back toward me, making me doubly cautious. The wildflowers, at the height of their season, wafted toward us gently, coating my tongue with their sweet scent that nonetheless paled next to her.

  
The sunlight bathed her, caught the red and gold in her hair, outlined her flawless face, curved itself around her beautiful lips. Her eyes became pools of molten brass. The slight wind blew her floral scent toward me, mouthwatering but so entirely fitting. She belonged here, in this sunlight world. When I had constructed this meadow, I had not known it was for her.

  
Now, I knew.

  
She glanced behind her then turned urgently. Her eyes searched frantically, then calmed when she saw me. Curiosity, of course, became once again her predominant expression. I was a wreck, furiously debating whether I should show her my skin. She might have been worried I would combust; yet her face was open, inviting, a small smile gracing her lips.

  
When I did not move, she beckoned me, playfully holding out her hand and daring me to join her. How I wished I belonged to this world of sunlight and magic with her!

  
But I could never deny her anything, especially a promise.

  
I took a deep breath and joined her in the sun.


	3. Confessions

Bella’s reaction to my skin—or, really, her lack thereof—was absolutely astounding.

Her expression was guarded, cautious, as she watched me slink into the sunrays; perhaps she was waiting for me to burst into flame or collapse into dust. As it was, the sunlight graced my skin with its warm brilliance and engulfed the meadow in light.

I could not be sure how it changed the scenery for Bella, but it was as if a thousand more suns have appeared in the sky for me. Suddenly, the trees had tiny rainbows dancing off them, increasing the lighting tenfold. It would have blinded human eyes, if they could see with the distinction I could. Like turning the brightness of a photo up, everything was whiter, lighter. With every step I took, the light shifted, constantly dancing, enhancing the beauty of the meadow.

Bella stood spellbound, watching me step carefully to her side. I was moving slow, careful to keep her calm. This was the most alien thing she had seen so far, and if she were going to run away, she needed to run toward me so she would not get lost.

I stopped a few feet away from her and sank to the ground.

She stood still, watching me silently for a few moments and then finally came to join me, also moving slowly. Her heart rate, of course, was steady—exactly as it should not be.

“You’re lovely,” she breathed quietly. “What…why does your skin do that?”

I laughed, arranging my features into a mock-serious expression. “Why does your skin not?”

Immediately, I regretted the question; I wanted to take it back, but it was too late. That was the exact opposite of what I wanted, the exact opposite of what she should be thinking about. Desperate, I scooted closer and let out a heavy sigh directed toward her, depending on my concentrated scent to muddle her senses.

It worked; her eyes clouded slightly over and stared at my mouth.

“Anyway, Carlisle has done a lot of tests,” I said, carefully pulling her back into reality. Her wide brown eyes blinked once, seemingly shocked, and then met mine. “I can explain, if you think you can keep up.”

Her eyebrows pulled together. “Last time I checked, we’ve done the same Biology courses, Cullen.”

I laughed at the use of my surname; I had not intended to offend her so much. Of course, she did not know about my numerous degrees, but she _was_ incredibly sharp.

“That was a joke,” I clarified. “Really, his research is mostly guesswork, as we cannot gain tissue samples like humans can. Studying himself, though, Carlisle learned a few obvious truths: our bodies remain mostly of human components, we lost no systems but no longer need a few, but our brains are incredibly different.

“Our bodies are built of microscopic materials consistent with humans, especially polysaccharides structurally, but it seems almost as if they were filled in with a kind of crystalline cement, of sorts. Carlisle has observed this same…compound, if you will, in our venom. Within the venom, it is active, constantly moving almost as if alive; once they have infiltrated our once-human cells and coated them, they are inactive, simply binding. He did observe a few areas of activity within the epithelium—it seems as if our anatomy was retained yet frozen, with only some organs and systems still necessary—about eighteen hours after hunting. He’s unsure about minute details; we have no ATP production, our cells need nothing but blood, far as he can tell—it’s hard to not have certain conceptions.”

I expected her to be bored, as if attending a lecture; I was, after all, paraphrasing a doctor. When I paused, she nodded and asked, “What about the other truths Carlisle learned?”

I raised my eyebrow at her but kept talking. “We do not have a functioning circulatory system. Our digestive system takes place entirely within intra-celluar connections, with no known waste products.” She blushed and did not press for details. I quickly carried on.

“It seems as if the cement—Carlisle calls it “Compound X”, ever original—not only alters our cells structurally, but also their connections and functions. Of course, we are incredibly strong, as Tyler Crowley’s poor van found out.” I smiled at her and she beamed back, utterly fascinated. It sounded like a lot of guesswork in a science fiction novel to me, but I was happy she was entertained.

“But we are, at the same time, frozen. Always the same age, always the same appearance. I have noticed myself that it is hard even to change my preferences, my tastes, my opinions…. This is, of course, yet another reason I so greatly admire Carlisle for his devotion to this lifestyle. I cannot imagine how difficult it was to turn on his nature in this optionless form.”

“Was it hard for you?” She asked gently.

I simply nodded, unwilling to think about hunting humans with her blood, warmed by the sun and permeating the meadow, so close, so tempting. She stared at me, unspeaking.

“Imagine refraining from drinking water on the hottest day in Phoenix,” I said wryly. “It’s a bit like that, but a thousand times worse. Animal blood is like drinking a warm soda in this situation—it’s still satisfying, still quenches your thirst, but not for long and it never _feels_ like the real thing.”

She wrinkled her nose, digesting that. I noticed with concern that it was blistering ever so slightly, the cells reddening and expanding in agony.

“Your nose is sunburnt.” I touched it gently with the tip of my finger. “I should have brought some sunscreen.”

She dipped her face, angling herself so the sun was at her back. “I should have thought of it. I never think of it here, but I always had some on hand back in Arizona.” She grinned at me, eyes suddenly devious. “And here I was thinking _you’d_ be more likely to be burnt by the sun!”

I rolled my eyes but chuckled with her. “Yes, it is a bit ironic.”

Curiosity lit in her eyes. “Why _doesn’t_ the sun burn you?”

I shrugged. “Carlisle suspects it’s a myth that…was spread, to keep our kind hidden.” I purposefully steered clear of mentioning the Volturi, as if their very name could summon them here to claim the life of the woman I loved.

“Of course, we _cannot_ go out into the sun, at least not where humans can see, or we would be immediately found out. Perhaps it is borne of both rumor and observation.” I shrugged, nonchalant. “Regardless, it simply does not burn us. We are more flammable than humans, though, so maybe that has something to do with it.”

I grinned as she puzzled over those words. I had never talked so freely about this, except with Carlisle in the attempt to understand our state to potentially reverse it. Rosalie, too, had been privy to these conversations; it was actually she who noticed the slight flush from hunting, and lead Carlisle to discover the increased activity of Factor X.

Bella propped her head on her chin, leaning forward. “Hmm. I always wondered what you would do with _eternity_ …I mean, it’s such a long time! How do you do it?”

I laughed. “I would be lying if I said I were not often bored. High school, before you came along, was absolute hell.” She smiled widely, somehow shyly, and ducked her eyes down. Warm flush spread across her cheeks; though she smelt delicious, it was more difficult to tear my eyes away from her hands, twisting a different gold ring, inlaid with lab-created blue sapphires, as the microscopic perfection I could see gave away.

“Other than that, I helped Carlisle with his studies. I volunteered at his hospitals occasionally. I like to play the piano and compose music, as well as listen to other composers.” I grinned, a suddenly evil smile on my face. “My brothers, Jasper and Emmett, enjoy chess, but won’t let me participate. It’s more entertaining to find ways to do so.”

Bella smiled with me, but her eyes still contained multitudes of questions.

I laid back; the sunlight, being here with Bella, the sound of birds and scurrying creatures I was half-way tuning out…these were all aspects of a fairy tale, a life created not for me, but a wonderous occurrence in which I was able to protect this earthen angel beside me.

I had expected Bella to lean back as well, but she stayed upright, watching my skin cast rainbows across the meadow.

We chatted amiably as the sun moved slowly across the sky. I willed it to stop, to freeze me in this moment forever. With Bella by my side, unmoved by my demonic, inhuman nature, I felt truly happy for the first time in my entire existence. No, happy was the wrong word…. I gazed at her and she looked away, blushing, but her eyes bounced back eagerly to mine. I gave her a small smile, which she returned, amazement in her eyes.

No, bliss was the right word.

Carlisle gave me purpose, a strong sense of mortality, yet I had never had such a clear sense of belonging, of rightness, as I did now. I knew this human was my reason for existing, to protect and to love in any way the universe miraculously allowed.

Eventually, the chatter died down. Bella spread her hair out to protect the back of her neck. I was, strangely, almost…sleepy? So utterly relaxed and content, without the actual need for sleep. In all of the extra time I had been granted, I had never experienced anything like this. I closed my eyes, savoring the moment.

I sensed Bella shift next to me. It was quiet; the birds were far away, sensing the danger I presented. Even so, the gentle hum of pollinating bees filled the air, the sun warming both of us, and the safety I felt with her, protected…if there were a heaven awaiting me, I could imagine nothing better.

But of course, heaven without music made no sense. Half-ironically, I started singing a wordless melody—Bella’s melody.

“Are you cold?” Bella piped up, absurdly.

I opened my eyes and laughed at her concerned expression. I shook my head, still smiling. “I can lay in a snowbank and still be comfortable. This is entirely pleasant.”

“Oh,” she said, looking at her hands. “Your lips were moving—I thought you were shivering.”

My smile softened. My darling Bella, always so concerned about even the strongest around her. I always lamented her lack of self-preservation, but right now, I simply could not. It was, after all, a part of the set of amazing circumstances that allowed her to be _here_ , of all places, with _me_ , of all people. My mind was ablaze with love for her; my whole body sang with it.

“I’m singing to myself. It’s probably too soft for you to hear.”

I closed my eyes again; my lips were still turned upward. I was reveling in the happiness I felt, such a strange yet pleasant emotion. I could not remember feeling it before, not even as a human.

A short while later, I sensed her hand approach. I felt the warmth radiating from her before her smooth skin, marred only by the delicate grooves of her fingerprint, met mine. She stroked the back of my hand, so gently I would have believed impossible. She did not take her hand back; the path along my hand tingled with an intoxicating warmth, so unlike the tantalizing electricity we’d once shared.

I met her eyes, smiling at her nervous expression. Truly, she would be safer if she listened to me, but that was unthinkable to me now. To turn my back on the most perfect, selfless, intelligent woman I had ever had the good fortune to know…it was foolishness beyond reason. Besides, she was more likely nervous for another, more simple reason than the reality of the monster I was.

Still, I had to ask. “I don’t scare you?”

Perhaps my alien skin had finally convinced her of the danger I inherently posed.

“No more than usual.”

Every time I thought a straight answer was obtainable, she wrenched it from me. My perfect, infuriating Bella.

She scooted toward me, stretching her hand to touch my marble forearm. Her fingers cast shadows over some of my skin, which went from brilliant refractivity to a slight shimmer in the sudden dark. Her fingers trembled slightly; I wondered if it was from the chill of my skin, or from her nerves. My skin, I could feel, was warmer than usual, soaking in the sun for hours. The warmth of her hand, though, was everything in comparison to the measly sun. It could burn out and drift away, leaving the sky black and the earth frozen; if only she remained, warming my heart and body, I would hardly notice.

“Do you mind?” Her voice was small; I had closed my eyes again and was halfway tempted to peek at her expression, but refrained.

“No. You can’t imagine how that feels.” I sighed, totally content.

She continued up my arm, lightly caressing the contours and highlights of the musculature my transformation bestowed upon me. I was strong for a human—those were different times, and you had to be to perform basic survival tasks—but nothing, of course, like I was now.

I startled her, flipping my hand when her fingers paused. She froze briefly and her heart stopped, but only for one beat. I glanced at her; she seemed fine, just surprised.

“Sorry,” I apologized, closing my eyes again. “It’s too easy to be myself with you.”

And it was. She made it so; there was nothing that scared her, nothing that sent her running for the hills or holding up a rosary. It was improbable, almost entirely impossible, that such a divine creature could exist in human form, let alone be so at ease with the very monster that could destroy her. In only eighty-seven years of turning, I had found the purpose of my existence.

It seemed like a long time, granted; compared to the rest of my family, it was an eternity. However, sitting here with her, hearing her soft, regular heartbeat, inhaling her otherworldly scent…. I would wait ten times that long if I had to, if she were waiting at the end.

If, by some miracle, she was meant for me as I was made for her.

She was turning my hand sporadically now; I opened my eyes again and watched her, squinting at my glittering palm. It was practically a centimeter from her nose; I wondered fleetingly if she was nearsighted.

Her eyebrows were furrowed, as if she was concentrating on an incredibly difficult equation. What hidden meanings was she finding, trapped beneath my skin?

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” My voice was low; it seemed somehow sacrilegious to defile the moment with volume.

Her eyes danced between mine—wondering if she had upset me? Hoping she would not offend me with her thoughts?

“It’s still so strange for me, not knowing.”

She smiled softly, but seemed hesitant still. “You know, the rest of us feel that way all the time.”

Of course they did. I would give my gift up in a (metaphorical) heartbeat, if I could become human again. If I were _right_ for her, if we could have a normal life together….

“It’s a hard life.” But other paths were harder, as I could attest. “But you didn’t tell me.”

She sighed, unable to avoid my question anymore. Would it ever be easier to derive information from her?

“I _was_ wishing I could know what you were thinking,” she admitted. Huh, so much for her lecture. But it did give it sense; I wondered if she envied it?

My mind flashed to the first day I’d seen her in person, in that cramped cafeteria with hundreds of petty voices shouting over one another, vying for attention and validation. If vampires could get headaches, I would have them constantly. Perhaps there was a reason humans could not read minds; their bodies were simply too fragile for it.

I realized she had stopped talking.

“And?” I prompted; her tone insinuated there was more.

“And I was wishing that I could believe that you were real. And I was wishing that I wasn’t afraid.”

So, the moment had come at last. Her heartbeat had quickened while she confessed, yet the soft blush on her cheeks made me think, somehow, that wasn’t quite the fear she meant.

“I don’t want you to be afraid.” I wished bitterly that I could tell her there was nothing to be afraid of, that I would never, _could_ never hurt her, without it being an outright lie.

“Well, that’s not exactly the fear I meant, though that’s certainly something to think about.”

Surprised that my intuition about her, for once, was correct, I sat up. I forgot to move slowly, and she jumped slightly when her eyes caught up. I wanted honesty, I wanted to be close to her…. I let both of these impulses guide me, my face inches from her glorious one.

“What are you afraid of, then?”

Her eyes slid out of focus—damn! I had not taken into account my scent, so concentrated at this distance. And then she came closer, inhaling.

Her scent billowed around me, the thin skin of her neck doing absolutely nothing to shield the inviting wet hotness of her jugular vein and, deeper, her carotid artery, carrying her sweet blood right to me….

The monster, silent for so long, rose at once in my chest, demanding that I crush through her neck, bite into the flowing reservoir of blood made just for me—

I sped across the meadow, sticking my face directly into a fir tree, internally begging the woods around me to erase her scent, to banish the monster inside me back to his hellish dimension. I was worried I had hurt her; my hand had left hers at speeds faster than any bones could expect to resist. I turned to look at her, appraising her expression…she seemed unhurt, but both sorrow and chagrin were clear on her face.

“I’m sorry, Edward.” She whispered the words slowly, processing what had happened.

I did not want to upset her, but I _really_ did not want to kill her.

“Give me a moment,” I called, barely loud enough to reach her. I was focused on a furious battle, locking the monster down. He was snarling, demanding her blood, taunting me with his existence. I knew he would never truly leave; I was a fool to think he had.

Finally, my better side won; he was shackled, but ready to break free at any chance. I had to be more careful.

The thought of her pulsing veins, the terrifying possibility that, if things had been slightly different, I would be covered and full of her blood, kept me cautious. I sat down on the ground carefully, watching her the entire time. Did she understand how close to death she had come?

I breathed twice, testing my resistance to her scent; it was not so bad. There was no battering ram, no releasement of the monster I had so carefully jailed, only the familiar flow of venom. I relaxed my tense muscles, willing my body to realize I was not hunting. I smiled, pleased with my victory.

“I am so very sorry.” I tried to think of a joke. “Would you understand what I meant if I said I was only human?”

She didn’t laugh; I had scared her more than I thought. Epinephrine flowed through her, increasing her heart rate and respirations. It made her blood slightly more appealing, excited the hunter within. I crushed it down, eroding it to dust.

Now, there was no doubt she understood exactly how dangerous I was. She would run at any moment, and I would be lost, adrift in a world without her company. And, worst of all, I deserved it.

“I’m the world’s best predator, aren’t I?” I smiled sadly. She should have understood this all along. “Everything about me invites you in—my voice, my face, even my _smell_. As if I need any of that!”

I don’t know what possessed me; I was caught up in a giddy realization that this, this future that Alice did not see—my resistance to her blood, and the subsequent terror Bella faced—was what was eventually going to happen. I was going to lose her, all along. If not through murder, she would come to her senses. I had wanted it, wished for it, but now the moment was here, I could do nothing but grieve. Still, I wanted to do it thoroughly. Let her be afraid, let her save herself, and let her learn to stay completely away.

I sped around the meadow, going back to my fir tree.

“As if you could outrun me.” A bitter laugh broke through my teeth. I sounded half-mad to myself.

I grabbed a thick branch from the living tree above me. As easily as peeling a layer from cotton candy, I wrenched it from the tree, producing an ear-splitting crack, as if the very plant were protesting. Then, because it was not quite impressive enough, I launched it at a nearby tree, nearly leveling it upon impact.

Unthinkingly, I bounded back to Bella, motionless in the meadow. She was as scared as I had ever seen her. Even the car crash had not affected her so much.

“As if you could fight me off,” I added, with less gusto. I was concerned now, ashamed at my sudden flight of fancy. My body tensed, ready for the hunt, ready for the feast that accompanied rushed movement like that. I fought it slowly down, growing more concerned by the second.

Bella was ashen, staring at me as if she had never seen me. Her brown eyes were wide, terrified…and yet, enraptured. She did not breathe, frozen like a rabbit hiding in a bush.

This was the very reason she could not be meant for me. I unconsciously took a step toward her, ready to beg for her forgiveness. At the very least, I needed her to trust me enough to get back to the truck.

“Don’t be afraid. I promise….” But what was a promise, after what I had done? “I _swear_ not to hurt you.” And I wouldn’t. I still ached for her blood, but I was bound by my love. I needed to be more prepared for surprises.

She was still staring at me, but to my relief, she took a small, gasping breath.

“Don’t be afraid,” I reassured her. I edged closer, moving more slowly than I ever had. I sat carefully a foot away from her, trying to ease her anxiety.

If I acted more human, more myself, perhaps she would be more comfortable.

“Please forgive me. I _can_ control myself. You caught me off guard. But I’m on my best behavior now.” An explanation, she loved those.

She started breathing again, at least, but fought with her tongue. Her throat was dry; she swallowed twice, her eyes still fearful.

“I’m not thirsty today, honestly,” I joked. I even winked at her; to my relief, it finally worked.

She laughed, though it was shallow and unsteady.

“Are you alright?” Slowly, keeping eye contact the whole time, I delicately offered my hand back, sliding it back beneath hers. She glanced at me and then back at my hand; she returned to her tracing with her fingertips. She looked up at me from beneath her eyelashes.

I couldn’t help my beaming smile.

“So where were we, before I behaved so rudely?” I worked to keep my mannerism as human as possible. I could not believe she had forgiven me; I would not blame her if she were humoring me, waiting for the safety of her car before telling me to leave and never return.

“I honestly can’t remember.”

That was fair. It was a bad place to have left off, though; I had demonstrated so perfectly the only reason she needed to fear me.

“I think we were talking about why you were afraid, besides the obvious reason.”

“Oh, right.” She bit her lip unconsciously.

“Well?” I asked, impatient again. Would I never be able to control my moods with her? Was I always going to be on the brink of failure?

She gazed down at our entwined hands. Her tracing grew faster and yet more random. Was she thinking of how to phrase her feelings, or was she simply refusing to answer? With how steady her heart was now, I doubted she was in shock. Could she be going into shock?

I looked at her face, worried now; her eyebrows were furrowed and her bottom lip stuck out slightly, like a child’s. She was definitely avoiding answering.

I sighed, determined to keep my moods in check. “How easily frustrated I am.”

She met my gaze, seemingly startled. Her eyes flashed as they did when she saw through one of my pretenses, yet I could not decipher the meaning behind it. Tenderness replaced the intuition, and she seemed renewed.

“I was afraid….” She paused for so long that I assumed she’d given up. Her gaze dropped to our hands. Before I could become too agitated, though, she continued. “Because, for, well, obvious reasons, I can’t _stay_ with you. And I’m afraid that I’d like to stay with you, much more than I should.”

Deep shame filled me, drowning the smothered monster. Half an hour ago, I would have been elated. Now, however, with the reality of the danger she faced so clear in both of our minds, it depressed me. I knew I was wrong, had known it all along, and this was the face of the façade I granted myself crashing to the ground around us.

“Yes. That is something to be afraid of, indeed.” I paused, wishing I did not have to say the words I did. “Wanting to be with me. That’s really not in your best interest.”

Her lower lip jutted out slightly, and her eyebrows pushed together. How could it be so hard to keep her safe? I could not imagine leaving her; if she did not wish it, I refused to. But if she did, now that she fully understood the threat I presented, I would forever keep her out of harm’s way by removing myself from the equation.

She may forget me with time, but I knew I would never love anybody the way I loved her again.

“I should have left long ago.” The words pained me, but she needed to hear them. “I should leave now. But I don’t know if I can.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” she mumbled. I glanced at her, but her eyes were fixed upon a flower barely touching the toe of her left shoe. Her sorrow burned a hole through me, more painful than her scent the first day, than even the fire of my transformation.

“Which is exactly why I should. But don’t worry. I’m essentially a selfish creature. I crave your company too much to do what I should.”

“I’m glad.”

“Don’t be!” I wrenched my hand from her grasp. I was careful to not injure her, but it made it so much harder to impress upon her the importance of my words. I could not distract myself with her warmth, let her company soften my words and convince her to stay. “It’s not only your company I crave! Never forget _that_. Never forget I am more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else.”

I could not meet her eyes anymore, could not look at her face to see exactly who I was losing. She was quiet, digesting what I had said.

“I don’t think I understand exactly what you mean—by that last part anyway.”

Surprised, I looked at her. She focused on yet another mystery instead of the obvious truth in the rest of my words…it was so entirely like her, I wondered at my reaction.

“How do I explain? And without frightening you again…hmmmm.” Against my better judgement, I pressed my hand into hers. I missed the sunshine she sang into my frozen veins. She held it tightly, shocking me with the deathgrip. If I were human, it definitely would have hurt. I glanced down at them, but the sight caught me; her delicate human hands, knuckles white from their grip, in direct juxtaposition to the ivory hardness of my skin. It was like holding a marble statue, unfeeling and unrelenting.

Yet, I was not unfeeling.

“That’s amazingly pleasant, the warmth.” I spoke out loud. I remembered she had asked me to explain, and I tried to think of a comparison she could understand.

“You know how everyone enjoys different flavors? Some people love chocolate ice cream, others prefer strawberry?”

She nodded instead of rolling her eyes, so I figured my start was solid.

“Sorry about the food analogy,” I threw in. “I couldn’t think of another way to explain.”

She smiled at me, inviting me to continue. I smiled back, nervous suddenly.

“You see, every person smells different, has a different essence. If you locked an alcoholic in a room full of stale beer, he’d gladly drink it. But he could resist, if he wished to, if he were a recovering alcoholic. Now let’s say you placed in that room a glass of hundred-year-old brandy, the rarest. Finest cognac—and filled the room with its warm aroma—” I couldn’t help but add in, thinking of how overpowering her scent was in enclosed spaces, “how do you think he would fare then?”

She stared at me and I stared back, wishing I could read her mind.

“Maybe that’s not the right comparison,” I relented. “Maybe it would be too easy to turn down the brandy. Perhaps I should have made our alcoholic a heroin addict instead.”

She grinned, that teasing light in her eyes again. I nearly whooped with the joy of it—perhaps she could see past my terrifying nature after all. “So what you’re saying is, I’m your brand of heroin?”

I smiled back, relieved. “Yes, you are _exactly_ my brand of heroin.”

“Does that happen often?” she wondered.

My mood plummeted; I did not wish to ponder this. I stared at the trees as I answered.

“I spoke to my brothers about it,” I confessed. “To Jasper, every one of you is much the same. He’s the most recent to join our family. It’s a struggle for him to abstain at all. He hasn’t had time to grow sensitive to the differences in smell, in flavor.”

I broke my gaze away from the woods. “Sorry,” I said quickly.

“I don’t mind. Please don’t worry about offending me, or frightening me, or whichever. That’s the way you think. I can understand, or I can try to at least. Just explain however you can.”

Her reassurance, as misplaced as it was, calmed me slightly. I answered her question more fully, cringing when she asked about what Emmett’s experience was.

When she brought up my behavior that first day, it took me back to the maddening bloodlust, the agonizing scent, Carlisle’s face swimming in my mind…the combined compulsion to end this human’s life and the unrelenting sorrow that I felt to have to….

But now explaining it to her, knowing what I knew of her character, having felt the love I contained in every cell of my body for her, the memories were filled with that side. It was agony on both sides; the horrible temptation and the paralyzing fear of losing her. I wanted that to be the biggest impression on her; not the fact that I almost took her life, but that now, it would destroy me.

“And for all that, I’d have fared better if I _had_ exposed us all at that first moment, than if now, here—with no witnesses and nothing to stop me—I were to hurt you.”

“Why?”

I nearly laughed at her cadence. “Isabella.” On impulse, I pulled my fingers through her long hair, twisting the strands gently. “Bella, I couldn’t live with myself if I ever hurt you. You don’t know how it tortured me.” I stared at the ground; admitting I wanted to kill her to her face never became easier. “The thought of you, still, white, cold…to never see you blush scarlet again, to never see that flash of intuition in your eyes when you see through my pretenses…it would be unendurable.” I locked eyes with her, absorbing the vivid vitality within. “You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever.”

Her breathing became shallow, but she did not seem fearful.

After a few moments, she spoke.

“You already know how I feel, of course. I’m here…which, roughly translated, means I would rather die than stay away from you.” She frowned. “I’m an idiot.”

I laughed. “You _are_ an idiot.” In the most chivalrous way possible, I agreed. While the word was crass, the message was clear; there was not another human in the world that had worse survival instincts.

My musings from earlier crossed my mind.

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb….” I said softly.

Her heart rate spiked. “What a stupid lamb.”

“What a sick, masochistic lion,” I agreed.

She pulled me from my revere, asking how she could make me more comfortable if I felt the urge to murder her again. It was laughable, her concern for me radiating when she should have been worried about keeping her neck intact, frankly.

To test myself, although my better side screamed that I should not risk her life again so harshly, I gently placed my hand against her neck. I could feel her pulse, but I ignored it as a foodsource, instead imagining it on its vital journey oxygenating her brain, keeping her _self_ alive and with me. And though her heart quickened, pounding the blood past my hand, mere centimeters away from the creature created to destroy it…I resisted. To keep her here.

Imagining it like that helped.

“You see, perfectly fine.” I grinned in triumph.

Her eyes were wild again, breaths coming short. Her face was flushed, a beautiful combination of roses and cream against the white collar.

“The blush on your cheeks is lovely,” I whispered, brushing my hand along it. Then I gently grasped her head between my hands. They were huge compared to her delicate skull.

“Be very still,” I warned her.

And carefully, ever so carefully, I moved my head, packed full of razor-sharp teeth waiting to drain her heart dry, to rest against her chest. The loud thudding, the inviting rush of blood, and the _scent_ …I could never have imagined resisting it. For the first time in a long time, the smell set my throat alight. My muscles tensed even more, yet they were already locked into place. The venom flowed freely, would have drowned me if I needed air. The monster in my chest was almost insane with thirst, fighting to break free, to drain the girl I loved, but my control had never been more absolute.

Calmly, determinedly, I dismantled him limb by limb, Bella’s heartbeat dictating the rhythm of his demise. He fought with everything nature gave him, but he never stood a chance. The devotion I felt for this fragile human gave me more strength that Carlisle had granted me; it was easy to kill my most hated enemy.

My throat provided the perfect pyre for his ripped pieces. Bella’s heart sped up as he burned, a climax to the riveting scene.

And when his ashes coated my throat, lessening the burn, I straightened.

“It won’t be so hard again,” I said, ecstatic with myself.

“Was that very hard for you?”

“Not nearly as bad as I imagined it would be. And you?”

“No, it wasn’t bad…for me.”

I smiled, sure she was teasing. “You know what I mean.”

“Here,” I said, missing our contact already. I gently grasped her hand and pressed it against my cheek. “Do you feel how warm it is?”

Her heartbeat sped up, and she whispered, “Don’t move.”

Obligingly, I turned to stone. Her hands danced over my face, tracing my features and leaving tingling warmth behind. She moved incredibly slowly, careful to blend each movement into the next. Too soon, she dropped her hands; I, however, was ready to try one more thing.

I opened my eyes, and the sight of her distracted me from my course. I wanted her so badly, wanted to be everything she desired and needed…I was so wrong for her, but how could this all-consuming love be anything but right?

“I wish…. I wish you could feel the…complexity…the confusion….I feel. That you could understand.” I tenderly brushed her hair across her face, bathing myself in her glorious scent.

“Tell me,” she whispered, her breath coming faster.

“I don’t think I can. I’ve told you, on he one hand, the hunger—the thirst—that, deplorable creature that I am, I feel for you. And I think you can understand that, to an extent. Though,” I amended, a small smile on my face, “as you are not addicted to any illegal substances, you probably can’t empathize completely.

“But….” I touched her lips gently with my finger, bracing myself, testing my limits. “There are other hungers. Hungers I don’t even understand, that are foreign to me.”

My thoughts flashed, oddly, to Tayna…it could not be like this for her. I doubted anybody longed for anything more than I longed for Bella, to be able to _be_ with her without killing her.

“I may understand _that_ better than you think.”

Hope swelled in my chest. “I’m not used to feeling so human. Is it always like this?”

Her eyes fluttered and a delicate blush spread across her cheeks. “For me? No, never. Never before this.”

I held her hands, cupping them entirely. So gentle, always, for her, yet so determined to make her _real_ …a real possibility, a real future….

And yet she was so delicate, always. I could never lose any control with her, never lapse…and yet, was that such a terrible price to pay? To simply be gentle? Disregarding the morality of her soul, if I could be with her and keep her mortal, I could ensure she would always be safe. A month ago, I would have immediately laughed off anybody—even Alice—who said I could resist her blood so easily.

_Not entirely easily_ , I amended, remembering how close I’d come today. However, who was to say it couldn’t get easier? If I could resist her blood, could I consider a future with her?

“I don’t know how to be close to you,” I said gently. Not yet, but perhaps I could learn…. “I don’t know if I can.”

She leaned forward carefully, showing me her intention and maintaining eye contact. Then, gently, she nuzzled her cheek into my marble chest. She sighed, content. “This is enough.”

Following instinct, I wrapped my arms around her and pressed my face into her hair, inhaling her scent. My physical reaction to it was so closely controlled that I barely noticed.

“You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for,” she said, muffled against my chest.

“I have human instincts—they may be buried deep, but they’re there.” Nonetheless, I glowed beneath her praise.

The sun was sinking, the meadow fast becoming more shadow than light. It hurt me to think of a departure, even one so small as “goodnight”. Yet, it was inevitable. Against me, she sighed sadly. I smiled, pleased our thinking was along the same lines.

“You have to go.”

“I thought you couldn’t read my mind,” she complained.

“It’s getting clearer.” I laughed silently to myself. Of course, it was no more clear than it had been the first day I saw her.

I pulled her back gently, leaning her upward so I could see her face.

“Can I show you something?” I asked, realizing how we could save time and also, reveal another part of myself to her.

“Show me what?” she asked eagerly.

“I’ll show you how _I_ travel in the forest.” Her eyes dimmed, and worry crossed her face. She chewed her bottom lip. “Don’t worry,” I reassured her, “you’ll be very safe, and we’ll get to your truck much faster.” I smiled at her, wanting her to agree. As much as I loved spending time with her, I could not endure another human-paced trek.

“Will you turn into a bat?”

Surprise made my answering laugh much louder than normal, loud enough to hurt her ears. “Like I haven’t heard _that_ one before!”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Right, I’m sure you get that all the time.”

Goading seemed to be the answer here. “Come on, little coward, climb on my back.”

She hesitated, eyes searching my expression. I grinned at her insubordination—always nervous for the wrong reasons—and slung her carefully onto my back. She clamped on tightly around my neck—if my trachea were still cartilaginous, I would have choked—and secured her legs in front, tucking her left foot into her right.

“I’m a bit heavier than your average backpack,” she warned, caution saturating her tone.

I snorted. She was barely there; I could easily carry five times her weight, though it would greatly reduce my speed. It did remind me of her fragility, of the potential danger of my plan…. I grabbed her hand from around my throat, inhaling deeply. The scent almost didn’t register as thirst. The monster was gone.

“Easier all the time." I repeated the new mantra, placing her hand back. She grasped tightly.

The run was still exhilarating, yet she slowed me much more than I had expected. I guessed, doing some basic math, that my speed was cut nearly in half. Still, with the extra attention I put on keeping her steady, it made sense. Maybe Emmett would design a harness to hold her in place. I snorted again, amused.

And now, I knew I was ready. I could feel her warmth, her pulse, against my back, and I did not want to kill her. I wanted her to be closer, conversely; I could never want anything more.

It took me longer than usual, but it was still only minutes before we were back at the truck. I stopped short, hanging back at the treeline.

“Exhilarating, isn’t it?” I waited for her to dismount, but she was locked in place.

“Bella?”

“I think I need to lie down,” she squeaked. Her breathing was ragged; I was ashamed I hadn’t noticed before.

“Oh, sorry.” I stood stock-still, but she did not move.

“I think I need help,” she said, still breathless.

Of all of the aspects to steal her breath, running was it. I chuckled sardonically to myself, easing her off gently. Instead of placing her on the ground immediately, I swung her around, cradling her in my arms, as one would a bride. When I was sure she could stand, I let her down softly.

“How do you feel?” The shade of white with slight green tint her face had adopted reminded me of the fateful blood typing day.

“Dizzy, I think.” Her eyes were unfocused, her breathing still labored. Humans were frustratingly fragile!

“Put your head between your knees.” I wanted to ensure her brain had adequate blood supply, but more…I wanted to spend a few more minutes here with her, reveling in the day in our meadow.

She obliged, and slowly her breathing returned to normal. When she weakly raised her head, I commented, “I guess that wasn’t the best idea.”

“No, it was very interesting,” she countered meekly.

“Hah! You’re as white as a ghost—no, you’re as white as _me_!” Now that I knew she was okay, my good mood had returned.

“I think I should have closed my eyes,” she groaned.

“Remember that next time,” I advised.

“Next time!”

I laughed gently. Slowly, I turned to face her, leveling my head to hers.

Her eyes were closed; she was grimacing, bemused. Her mouth twitched, inexplicably irritated. “Show off,” she grumbled.

“Open your eyes, Bella,” I said quietly. She obliged, jerking back slightly when I was so close. I ignored that.

“I was thinking, while I was running….” I trailed off, unsure how to continue. Should I ask her? Wasn’t the hesitation before a kiss about a chance to reject me, to ensure she did not have to get closer to my teeth than she needed to be? Hadn’t she said she recognized those same hungers? Did she want it too?

“About not hitting the trees, I hope,” she grumbled.

“Silly Bella. Running is second nature to me, it’s not something I have to think about.”

“Show off,” she said again.

I smiled softly, lowering my gaze to her lips. “No. I was thinking there was something I wanted to try.”

I gently cupped her face in my palms, purposefully leaving her room to pull away, if she wanted. Her breathing spiked and her pulse hammered.

I hesitated, listening to her heart. The blood pulsing just inches beneath my fingers had no amount of the draw her lips did at this moment; I leaned in, butterflies in my frozen stomach, and pressed my lips softly to hers.

I had not even a second to enjoy the warmth, the triumph…the absolute _joy_ of kissing her. Her heart kicked into high gear and suddenly she was yanking me closer, fingers twisting into my hair, holding me prisoner. Her lips parted and I instantly froze, terrified of hurting her. If she cut herself on my teeth, it would be a horribly drawn-out transformation, and that was something neither of us wanted. I clenched my jaw shut, forcing down the wish to kiss her again. The softness, the warmth, of her body tricked me into hunting mode, but it was tolerable.

I pushed her back firmly, making sure I wasn’t using force enough to hurt her.

She opened her eyes and immediately flushed bright red.

“Oops,” she said.

“That’s an understatement.”

I forced myself to stay frozen, to maintain control. The monster wasn’t back; it was a relatively easy fight against my body’s natural hunting instinct.

“Should I….?” Bella pushed against me, but in my iron grip she could not move an inch.

“No, it’s tolerable. Wait for a moment, please.” I was fighting two urges now—I desperately wanted to kiss her again, but I did not trust her reactions. How ironic that _I_ was now afraid of _her_ instincts!

Slowly, the temptation of both her blood and her body faded. I smiled, pleased.

“There.”

“Tolerable?”

I laughed, shaking my head. I could not believe that I had actually killed the monster inside of me. “I’m stronger than I thought. It’s nice to know.”

“I wish I could say the same. I’m sorry.”

“You _are_ only human, after all.”

“Thanks so much,” she said acidly.

I jumped to my feet, ready to get going suddenly. The day was coming to a close, and I was already looking forward to seeing her again. I offered her my hand; she grabbed it, using it more heavily than I expected. Perhaps her motion sickness was not as fully recovered as I had assumed.

“Are you still faint from the run? Or was it my kissing expertise?” I laughed aloud, relieved to have it over with. I didn’t kill her, and I could look forward to kissing her again. Never in my existence had I felt so light.

“I can’t be sure, I’m still woozy,” she choked out. “I think it’s some of both, though.”

“Maybe you should let me drive.” I knew, before I got the words out, that she would shoot me down. However, I did not plan to take no for an answer.

“Are you insane?”

“I can drive better than you on your best day. You have much slower reflexes.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she knew better than to argue. “I’m sure that’s true, but I don’t think my nerves—or my truck—can take it.”

“Some trust, please, Bella.” I gazed into her eyes, setting my jaw, determined to dazzle her.

Her fingers gripped the keys in her pocket. Her expression became thoughtful, then devious…. She shook her head and smiled widely. “Nope. Not a chance.”

She started around me, angling herself toward the truck. She was still wobbly, though, and I wrapped my arms around her. “Bella, I’ve already expended a great deal of personal effort at this point to keep you alive. I’m not about to let you behind the wheel of a vehicle when you can’t even walk straight. Besides, friends don’t let friends drive drunk.” I laughed into her hair.

“Drunk?”

“You’re intoxicated by my very presence,” I grinned.

“I can’t argue with that,” she agreed. She dropped the key, not bothering to place it above my hand; I grabbed it before it could hit the ground. “Take it easy—my truck is a senior citizen,” she cautioned.

“Very sensible.”

“And are you not affected at all?” She pouted. “By my presence?”

She had a point, I had to admit. She was, by the very laws of my being, the center of my universe, and I was always distracted from everything that did not involve her. However, driving very much _did_ involve her. I bent down, brushing my lips against her face softly. I wanted to leave delicate kisses along her jawline, to trail down her neck, across her nose…. Somehow, I refrained.

“Regardless, I have better reflexes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everybody who has taken the time to read this! I love you all and I am so humbled by your hits, kudos, and comments. You truly give me life--and serotonin--in this lockdown. If you would like to, I'm fairly active on my Tumblr blog, username "carlislespotatocellar". Thank you all again!


	4. Mind Over Matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the hiatus! Firstly, Black Lives Matter, and I have been focusing on the protests of late. I'll still continue posting about them, but will try to focus my attention on this work again. I'll be moving in two weeks, so please be patient for the next update. I probably won't finish this by the time Midnight Sun is released, but I guarantee I will not read it until I have published this entire fic.

Driving her truck was excruciating.

If I pushed the speedometer even three miles above fifty, the engine started to whine in an entirely unhealthy way. I could probably walk faster than it drove, and I could definitely run at least four times faster. However, with Bella beside me, her face painted by the soft golden light from the glowing setting sun, it was tolerable. More than tolerable; this was heaven. Any place she was was transformed, holy. Sanctioned ground.

She had snapped her seatbelt into place as soon as she got in, gulping. I couldn’t tell if she was mocking me or if she was truly fearful, but either way I was sure to keep the car exactly centered in the lane. I could do it without thinking, especially crawling like this.

Her hand rested invitingly on the middle seat, fingers skyward. I deliberated for some long moments whether I should hold it or not; would she be repulsed?

But then my thoughts flashed to her delicate touch, her tender trailing of my face. In a movement so fast even my eyes could barely follow, I grabbed her hand. Her heartrate increased, but her fingers tightened around mine.

I smiled into the setting sun.

This was the most human I had felt yet; I rolled the windows down and cranked the radio up. The reception was horrendous, fading in and out as the trees danced past. I flipped through the stations quickly, unwilling for my hand to be apart from Bella’s for any more time than necessary.

I quickly settled upon my favorite, 91.5 KNWU. They usually played classical music, but to my delight, they had switched it up for a fifties-themed afternoon. I enthusiastically sang along to Johnny Cash and of course some of Elvis Presley’s best works, too low for Bella to hear. I knew it was ridiculous—our vocal cords were, after all, perfect—but I was incredibly, humanly nervous around her.

The music’s nostalgia, the invigorating wind, and most of all my beautiful Bella beside me, forced my mind back to the fifties. Carlisle had convinced us into Chicago; it was rather difficult for me. The city was loud, smelly, exactly as I remembered, but the fast-paced life had been entertaining. The boom of technology, from movies to cars, had been intoxicating. I had been far from human, but one aspect of immortality I had not anticipated was the absolute _wonder_ of witnessing human advancements for myself. Learning about them in my studies was interesting, but actually seeing it in person, holding the different tools and comparing their impact upon my own life…the sense was unparalleled.

I glanced over at Bella and was awestruck by how beautiful she was. It pulled me from my reminiscing; I would never yearn for any time period that did not have her in it. Her hair billowed around the cab, whipping her in the eyes, catching the light and glistening in an unexpected red. I wanted her, and only her, for the rest of my existence. I had, after all, lived through over a century, almost a life and a half. Nobody had this pull over me. Nobody ever would, besides her.

I gazed at her, at our entwined hands, and nearly burst with my good fortune.

The song changed; His Comets started playing and I couldn’t help but sing along, loud enough for the wind to quiet in comparison.

“You like fifties music?” Bella asked, her eyes guarded yet amused.

“Music in the fifties was good,” I answered jovially. “Much better than the sixties, or the seventies, ugh!” My mind flashed back to that horrible time period full of political upheaval and war. “The eighties were bearable.”

“Are you ever going to tell me how old you are?” Her voice faltered, but her face was set in determination.

“Does it matter much?” I smiled serenely at her. _What matters is that I survived to be with you, here and now_. Perhaps that was the reason I was transformed, perhaps I had always been meant for her. This was the only way to ensure we could meet, to be together…her battering ram of a scent was a test, to ensure I was safe enough to be near her…. Perhaps, she was my soulmate.

Looking into her dark eyes, melting in the sunlight, I could think of no other explanation.

“No, but I still wonder…. There’s nothing like an unsolved mystery to keep you up at night.” She pouted slightly, and I nearly laughed. I would argue that vampiric transformation could do a better job at it.

“I wonder if it will upset you.”

I turned my face to the setting sun; a marker, as always, of the passing time. Would she view it the same way: impossible circumstances, star-crossed lovers, finally able to be together, after a century of waiting? Or would she be repulsed, my age the final alien marker to make her survival instincts kick in? I very much doubted that would be the case, but I couldn’t bring myself to lose her, not after I worked so hard to keep her here.

“Try me,” she challenged.

I sighed; I should have known she would not let it drop. I gazed into her eyes, hoping that I would not see repulsion there, but determined to let her go if I did. It broke my frozen heart. Still, it was her choice—always, her choice. It was not up to me, and I wanted her to know every part of me. I gazed ahead, afraid for the worst.

“I was born in Chicago in 1901.” I couldn’t help but spare a glance her way; she was politely waiting, face carefully arranged into a calm mask. I smiled slightly at her stubbornness and continued. “Carlisle found me in a hospital in the summer of 1918. I was seventeen, and dying of the Spanish Influenza.”

A quick breath broke through my vision—the beds, nearly piled atop one another; nurses and doctors falling among the sick; the terrible heat, thick with the stench of the dead and dying—and my eyes flitted to her face. She still seemed calm, but her eyes were troubled.

“I don’t remember it well,” I said; a half-lie, as the muddy memories of watching my mother die beside me had tormented me these long years. “It was a very long time ago, and human memories fade.”

It was difficult for me to remember most of my life before then; the end had been traumatic enough to make its own impression. It was like peering through mud, frustrating and fruitless. I could remember basic facts, but I was unsure if that was from the review cemented into my superior mind. The memory of the awful burning, clear as day, marked the abrupt change in my mind’s clarity.

“I do remember how it felt, when Carlisle saved me. It’s not an easy thing, not something you could forget.” I flinched away from the memory.

Bella seemed to notice, and chimed in, “Your parents?” Her tone was saturated with compassion—and curiosity.

“They had already died from the disease. I was alone. That was why he chose me. In all the chaos of the epidemic, no one would ever realize I was gone.” A deep sadness, the loss of everybody dear to me, echoed through the years. I loved Carlisle with an almost religious devotion, but my memories now had all been marred by our hellish nature. We did what we could to atone for our very existence; I missed the comparatively small human repetency.

“How did he…save you?”

I focused hard on the sun ahead. I had reasons beyond fear to keep this from her. How could I let her suffer through the transformation, when it was so unutterably painful? How could I let her feel that same loss of family, of purpose, of God? Hers would be worse—instead of being abruptly orphaned, she would stay frozen as her friends, her parents, gradually became frail. She of course could not stay to witness it, but distance would only make that pain worse.

“…It was difficult. Not many of us have the restraint necessary to accomplish it. But Carlisle has always been the most humane, the most compassionate of us…. I don’t think you could find his equal throughout all of history.” I hesitated, thinking about my words and their implications before I spoke. “For me, it was merely very, very painful.”

I gazed back into the setting sun; we were nearly back to Forks, and I did not want to leave her with this our last. She would brood over it all night, and I had learned to not underestimate either her attentiveness or intuition.

“He acted from loneliness,” I said softly. I had long forgiven Carlisle for changing me; in his thoughts were nothing but love and a sense of relief, saved by himself from that horrible, empty existence. “That’s usually the reason behind the choice.” My thoughts flashed to our Denali cousins, changed by their mother when she realized she would lose them. Pity shook through me, thinking of their mother’s later fate. I wrenched my mind from that course. “I was the first in Carlisle’s family, though he found Esme soon after. She…fell from a cliff.” I trusted Bella had not noticed my slight hesitation. The remembered pain Esme felt shook through me; if I could cry, I would, remembering that terrible, complete desolation.

“They brought her straight to the hospital morgue, though, somehow, her heart was still beating.”

“So you must be dying then, to become….” Her eyes were compassionate, sorrowful for my family’s heart-wrenching history, but curiosity and another, deeper emotion provided the foundation.

“No, that’s just Carlisle. He would never do that to someone who had another choice. It is easier he says, though, if the blood is weak.”

I made a right-hand turn, easing the old truck onto her block. She seemed to sense something shift; she changed the subject.

“And Emmett and Rosalie?”

I picked my words carefully; I knew entirely too much about each of my family’s histories, practically lived it through their thoughts. I did not want to betray any information they themselves would not. I tried to stick as closely to history as possible.

“Carlisle brought Rosalie into our family next. I didn’t realize until much later that he was hoping she would be to me what Esme was to him—he was careful with his thoughts around me.” My eyes rolled involuntarily. Rosalie was beautiful, she was incredibly intelligent, but she simply was not for me. “But she was never more than a sister. It was only two years later that she found Emmett. She was hunting—we were in Appalachia at the time—and found a bear about to finish him off. She carried him back to Carlisle, more than a hundred miles, afraid she wouldn’t be able to do it herself. I’m only beginning to guess how difficult that journey was for her,” I teased, raising our still-entwined hands to brush her cheek. Of course, I could tell from her thoughts how terrible it was, but I couldn’t resist teasing Bella.

“But she made it,” Bella added, flush creeping up her cheeks. A soft smile played at the edges of her lips, and she glanced at me again.

“Yes. She saw something in his face that made her strong enough. And they’ve been together ever since. Sometimes they live separately from us, as a married couple. But the younger we pretend to be, the longer we can stay in any given place.”

I snorted quietly, reminded of Emmett’s insistence he was thirteen to a police officer during a seventies protest. We’d had to move very quickly after.

“Forks seemed perfect, so we all enrolled in high school.” I snickered, still reveling in Esme’s decision to move to a small town. They always attracted more notice; the locals didn’t have as much to talk about. Still, this place _was_ perfect. I gazed over at Bella, my eyes radiant.

“I suppose we’ll have to go to their wedding in a few years, _again_ ,” I finished. We had parked, but Bella made no move to leave, which sent a thrill through my body.

“Alice and Jasper?”

“Alice and Jasper are two very rare creatures.”

My mind flashed back to the day they turned up…a tiny Japanese-American woman, as buoyant as ever, claiming my room as her own. My teeth briefly ground together. Alice was towing the most terrifying vampire I had ever seen—more scars than anything, a testimony to the horrible past he’d lived through. His thoughts were wild, twisting with confusion and fear, worried this would turn into a fight…going through defensive moves in his head, hell-bent on protecting the small woman beside him. His southern drawl had taken effort to remove; he still lasped into it sometimes. My respect and love for them was not as strong as my feelings for Carlisle, but they were close. Alice was, after all, my favorite sibling.

“They both developed a conscience, as we refer to it, with no outside guidance. Jasper belonged to another…family, a _very_ different kind of family.” I spared her the horrific details. “He became depressed, and he wandered on his own.” This was, of course, almost a lie. Severing the ties from Maria, masking his scent and his intentions, took him months of careful planning. “Alice found him. Like me, she has certain gifts above and beyond the norm for our kind.”

“Really?” Bella’s tone was almost religiously amazed. “But you said you were the only one who could hear people’s thoughts.”

“That’s true. She knows other things. She _sees_ things—things that might happen, things that are coming. But it’s very subjective. The future isn’t set in stone. Things change.” I fought to keep emphasis from that last word, worried that Bella would see right through my pretenses.

“What kinds of things does she see?” Her voice was innocent—I couldn’t decide if she was faking it or not.

“She saw Jasper and knew that he was looking for her before he knew it herself.” A replay of Jasper’s astonishment, ducking into that small café with a golden-eyed, tiny Alice beaming at him played…if he could had had a heart attack, he would have. I smiled to myself. “She saw Carlisle and our family, and they came together to find us. She’s most sensitive to…non-humans.” I hoped she hadn’t noticed my fumbling over the word. “She always sees, for example, when another group of our kind is coming near. And any threat they may pose.”

“Are there a lot of…your kind?” she gasped. I could almost hear the wheels churning in her head, the detective she was.

“No, not many. But most won’t settle in any one place. Only those like us, who’ve given up hunting you people—” I glanced at her, gauging her expression, “—can live together with humans for any length of time. We’ve only found one other family like ours, in a small village in Alaska. We lived together for a time, but there were so many of us that we became too noticeable. Those of us who live…differently tend to band together.”

“And the others?”

I smiled privately to myself. She should be terrified, but her tone was wrought with insatiable curiosity. “Nomads, for the most part. We’ve all lived that way at times. It gets tedious, like anything else. But we run across the others now and then, because most of us prefer the North.”

“Why is that?”

I almost laughed. “Didn’t you have your eyes open this afternoon? Do you think I could walk down the street in the sunlight without causing traffic accidents? There’s a reason we chose the Olympic Peninsula, one of the most sunless places in the world. It’s nice to be able to go outside in the day. You wouldn’t believe how tired you can get of nighttime in eighty-odd years.”

“So that’s where the legends come from?”

I tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. “Probably.”

“And Alice came from another family, like Jasper?”

“No, and that _is_ a mystery. Alice doesn’t remember her human life at all. And she doesn’t know who created her. She awoke alone. Whoever made her walked away, and none of us understand why—or how—he could. If she hadn’t had that other sense, if she hadn’t seen Jasper and Carlisle and known that she would someday become one of us, she probably would have turned into a total savage.”

I remembered her confusion, her fear. My entire being ached for her; I was inexpressibly grateful that she did have her gift. Years of searching had turned up almost nothing.

Bella’s stomach growled so loudly, I thought for a second the truck had roared back to life.

“I’m sorry, I’m keeping you from dinner.”

I desperately did not want to leave her.

“I’m fine, really.”

But, though I could relate to her with nearly nothing physically, I understood how irritable hunger—or, rather, thirst—could make someone.

“I’ve never spent much time around anyone who eats food. I forgot.”

“I want to stay with you,” she said, her voice both intense and sorrowful.

“Can’t I come in?” I teased. _I’ll warn you if Charlie is near_ , I wanted to throw in, but decided I had a better chance without mentioning him.

“Would you like to?” She sounded entirely caught off guard. Isn’t that something humans did? Of course, she was nothing if not atypical.

“Yes, if it’s alright.” Her choice, always her choice. Regardless, I was out the door and opening hers in one fluid motion, excitement getting the best of me.

“Very human.” I couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not; I peered at her, but she ducked her head.

“It’s definitely resurfacing,” I said sardonically.

I had been prepping for this moment all afternoon; I was going to admit that I had been coming here at night. I was terrified for her reaction, worried she would instantly send me away, but I was not below groveling for her forgiveness.

I reached the door before her and, in one swift motion, grabbed the hidden key and unlocked it. I replaced it before she reached the porch. I opened it and gestured for her to go inside.

Halfway through the doorframe, she paused. “The door was unlocked?”

Caught already? I was both impressed and hesitant. “No, I used the key from under the eave.”

She raised one eyebrow but went inside. She paused in front of me, demanding an explanation without saying a word.

Sighing internally, I steeled myself. Absolute confidence was the key; if she knew I was ashamed, she would know I had sinned. If I lied to both myself and her with that omittance, perhaps she would forgive me.

“I was curious about you.”

“You spied on me?” Her tone was off; instead of anger, there was a softer note to it.

“What else is there to do at night?” I shrugged.

Thankfully, she followed me into the kitchen. I wondered briefly if it was odd for me to know my way around the house, but then decided it was so small that it was obvious. If anything, Esme’s fascination with architecture had made me familiar with almost every house design. These older houses were very predictable. Without invintation, I sat in the tallest chair, an off-white wooden piece. The edges were peeling, the only paint left on the wretched thing.

I wondered if it was a remnant of Charlie’s bachelor pad, or if Bella was planning on repainting it and terrible at sanding.

She fluttered around the kitchen, grabbing a plate, scooping a large chunk of soggy slop onto the ceramic. She shoved it in the microwave, focusing all of her attention on it.

She broke through my defenses immediately with pure surprise when she asked, “How often?”

“Hmmm?” I stalled for time, trying to make it sound as if my thoughts were focused on anything other than immediate deception.

“How often did you come here?”

I gave up almost immediately; from experience, I gathered that my brilliant, bemusing Bella would guess the exact questions to pull the information from me. If I were to have the upper hand, to keep myself in a favorable light with her, I would have to be transparent.

“I come here almost every night.” My tone was carefully nuanced with innocence and infatuation; the later I did not have to fake.

She immediately spun around, nearly taking the microwave with her as her hand flew to her inviting throat. “Why?” she gasped, breathless. I could hear her increased breathing, the straining of her heart to keep pace with the blush filling her cheeks. Would she ever be less dramatic about things that _didn’t_ threaten her life?

“You’re interesting when you sleep. You talk.” No need to mention the agony I felt in her absence, or my fear of bears bursting into her room. Out of curiosity for her reaction—would she laugh? be angry?—I almost wanted to throw in the later.

“No!” Her blush deepened; all of the blood in her body seemed to be in her face. I had never been less thirsty for it; chagrin shook me, but I maintained my composure. However, she did not speak. Rather, she gasped like a fish out of water, diaphragm spasming uncontrollably. Concern ruined my façade and I nearly leapt to her side. I stayed seated though, worried she would be even more furious if I assumed she was helpless.

“Are you very angry with me?”

I could almost see the wheels grinding in her head, the blood finally carrying enough oxygen to it for her to stop gasping. Though her chest still heaved, her color faded slightly. “That depends,” she choked out. She struggled for breath again.

I peered around her into the microwave, ensuring her food was still heating, not lodged in her trachea. It sat, revolving innocently, while she spluttered.

“On?”

Her brow furrowed and her eyes shone with tears. Good Lord, what had I done to her? She did not deserve this; of course, I had not anticipated this degree of reaction. I regretted mentioning it.

“What you heard!” She let out a sob, and I finally sped to her side. In an instant, I had my hands wrapped around hers, cradling them against my chest.

“Don’t be upset!” Now that I understood, it was almost laughable. How easily embarrassed she was about this, but entirely unapologetic for her passion in kissing me earlier! I would have laughed, but I was not yet out of the woods. I peered into her eyes, attempting and failing to dazzle her. She looked away, blush still heavy on her cheeks.

“You miss your mother. You worry about her.” My voice was hardly loud enough to hear. I made every effort, with my stance, my gaze, my tone, to communicate that I was no danger to her. That, for all the reasons it was wrong, it was simply right to be near her. That was an undeniable truth, but one I could not put into words.

She didn’t move, so I continued. “And when it rains, the sound makes you restless. You used to talk about home a lot, but it’s less often now. Once you said, ‘It’s too _green_.’” I offered her a small light laugh, hoping to ease the tension.

It did not work.

“Anything else?” she demanded. One eyebrow was raised; by the stubborn set of her jaw and her slumped shoulders, I knew she knew. She’d woken herself a few times with it, after all.

“You did say my name.” My tone was hesitant, but my stomach was swooping, full of butterflies I had never experienced until she came along into my unchanging midnight. It was triumph, it was hope…it was love.

She sighed, letting her shoulders angle downward even more. “A lot?” she questioned. Her tone was flatter, seemingly less angry. I could dare dream.

“How much do you mean by ‘a lot’, exactly?” I simply could not resist teasing her, now that her heart was returning to its normal rhythm.

“Oh, no!” Her head tipped forward; the crown was level with my chest. I carefully gathered her in my arms, clutching her against me.

“Don’t be self-conscious,” I whispered. “If I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I’m not ashamed of it.”

A sudden jolt of tires on the driveway pulled us both harshly out of the moment. I was frozen, taken entirely by surprise. Her heartbeat kicked up again. Charlie’s muted thoughts—happy, excited for the warmth of home—came into harsh relief. I couldn’t believe I’d missed him.

“Should your father know I’m here?” I hoped against set prescient that her answer would be yes, that I could finally claim her as my own, to everybody. I thought of Tyler Crowley, of that vile Mike Newton, and my jaw clenched.

“I’m not sure….” Her hands lessened their grip on my shirt. Disappointment flooded through me, but it was her choice. Always her choice.

“Another time, then….”

I raced upstairs. Of course, Charlie’s human speed had nothing on me; I paused, leaning against the banister when Bella hissed, “Edward!”

I laughed, loudly enough for her only to hear, and in the next instant was lounging on her bed.

Charlie walked in, his booming steps probably audible from the neighbor’s, even to human ears. I forced down a laugh; Bella did not get her clumsiness from her mother, it seemed. It was doubly funny in that moment, when I could not laugh: a clumsy Sheriff.

Oblivious, he cast around the kitchen, clattering noisily against every surface he came into contact with. She warmed him up a plate; I could hear the liquid slosh around (either juice or milk, as she’d retrieved it from the fridge) when she slammed his cup down. She wiped her hand on some fabric. Charlie chatted happily while Bella rushed through the conversation.

I heard Bella’s furious scraping, swallowing fast enough I was worried she would actually choke. Sharp yet quiet intakes of breath had me guessing she’d burnt herself. She gulped her drink; I could hear her heartbeat pounding frantically, as if she were right next to me. I fought down the urge to laugh again, but a small chuckle escaped nonetheless.

She wanted to be with _me_.

Charlie finally noticed her unusual behavior. “In a hurry?” His tone was not quite accusatory, but definitely suspicious. I supposed having a teenage daughter like Bella was odd.

“Yeah, I’m tired. I’m going to bed early.” She sounded as if she were on methamphetamines, or at least a toxic dose of caffeine.

“You look kinda keyed up.” His gravely voice was careful, but the authority in it was clear.

“Do I?” Her heart beat even faster, a hummingbird against the cage of her ribs. She got up, scraping her chair loudly against the linoleum. He huffed quietly. I wasn’t sure she could hear it.

“It’s a Saturday,” he said, in a would-be casual voice. When Bella answered this with only silence—her trademark, I figured—he continued. “No plans tonight?”

“No, Dad, I just want to get some sleep.” She sounded frustrated, breathless, maybe slightly embarrassed? But of course, she hated lying. And I seriously doubted Charlie would let me lounge up here with her if he knew. I supposed she did have some methods to her madness, after all.

“None of the boys in town your type, eh?” He would make a terrible actor; the innocence was all wrong, overpowered by suspicion and a hint of…sadness?

“No, none of the boys have caught my eye yet.”

I glowered at the dark wall in front of me. This was, although entirely necessary, stupid. Simply put.

“I thought maybe that Mike Newton…you said he was friendly.”

My glower turned into a murderous stare. My teeth ground together so hard they would pulverize cement. I turned to a previous daydream, murdering the annoyance for the sheer relief. He wouldn’t touch Bella. Nobody but _I_ could.

“He’s _just_ a friend, Dad.” I could literally hear her eyes roll in her skull, but it sated me only slightly. Was that why she refused to introduce me to Charlie? Did she think I was not fit to be a suitor? Deep depression sank into me as I considered that. Of course, I would be ashamed of myself if I were in her shoes. Imagine, choosing a monster over a human like Mike, one who could give her the world…well, as much of the world as Forks could contain.

But, no. I could give her so much more. Immortality, of course, but I would not do that.

However, I was unfortunately privy to his thoughts, and I knew he was horrendous for her. He did nothing without selfish intent; he didn’t even _know_ her! I knew her, and I loved her. Every slight expression, every laugh, every blush that graced her cheeks…I treated them all like the divine happenings they were. True, I could be short with her, but I could change that.

I just wished I knew what she wanted!

Now, more than ever, I wished I could read her mind.

Her exaggerated footsteps dragged up the stairs. I put my musings aside, for now—I wanted things to be light between us, as they had been on the drive home. There was always such tension, the weight of eons-old secrets between the two of us, the threat of death a constant…was it so wrong to wish we were normal teenagers, falling in love? For the millionth time, I begged for it. If the universe could feel what I did, it would explode; another Big Bang, stardust spiraling around itself, gravity forcing matter together again, pulling as irresistibly as Bella pulled on me. As irresistible, as simultaneously effortless.

The door opened; her silhouette was framed by the light of the landing. She raced across the room, passing me by entirely.

She opened the window loudly; was she _trying_ to force Charlie up here?

“Edward?” Her voice was low, hesitant…hopeful.

“Yes?” I snickered.

She whirled, her face a mask of shock. She gasped slightly; her hand flew again to her throat. She took me in, lazily sprawled across the bedsheets, my hands behind my head. The bed was short enough that I hung off it, further increasing the humor of her missing me. She slid to the floor, her heart thumping unevenly.

“I’m sorry.” I wasn’t, really. It was so amusing; I never grew used to humans’ inferior senses. Of course, her survival sense was a different story altogether, but still…moments like these could be fun.

“Just give me a moment to restart my heart.”

I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. Silly Bella. I rolled forward, careful to move at human speed, and lifted her easily next to me. I plopped her down almost unceremoniously; she bounced slightly into the soft mattress. “Why don’t you sit with me?”

Her eyes were soft, calmly bewildered. It was so like the expression that had haunted me for so long, and yet so different. There was no fear, no suspicion, and in that moment, she was the most beautiful I’d realized yet.

“How’s the heart?” I placed a large hand on hers, fighting the urge to feel her chest for myself. The last thing I wanted was to be too forward; my nerves, or her instincts, could not possibly bear _that_. And yet, though I knew it was wrong in every sense of the word, I wished fiercely for the possibility….

“You tell me,” she joked lightly. “I’m sure you hear it better than I do.”

I allowed the laughter inside me to spill over. My Bella, in my arms, awake at night…perhaps I should have revealed myself before. An exciting future occurred to me.

She leaned her head against my shoulder. I was positive it could not be comfortable, with my temperature and the rock-hard quality of my skin, but she seemed entirely at ease. Her heartbeat slowed gradually.

She sighed and glanced up at me after a few minutes. “Can I have a minute to be human?”

I straightened myself, pulling her up with me. “Certainly.” But I would miss her sorely the entire time. I waved my hand carefully, suggesting she go now.

She rose to her knees, then leaned down seriously toward me. She actually pointed her finger at me when she commanded, “Stay.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. The swooping sensation was back; she could tell me what to do for the rest of my existence, and I would happily oblige. Half-jokingly, I stopped breathing, freezing entirely on the bed. Let her see how still I could really be.

She glared at me, ensuring my obedience and then left with a quick glance behind her.

The shower took forever. I wasn’t sure how long they were supposed to take, granted; they had not been popular during my life as a human, but they were pleasant enough. We, of course, did not accumulate sweat and bacteria like humans did, and so only showered when we became dirty, usually after hunting. A brief memory of Jasper and Emmett spraying each other with the backyard hose after a particularly messy hunt flashed in front of my eyes.

The sun cast rainbows through the spraying light and off of their skin. Rosalie was off to the side, braiding her blonde hair and rolling her eyes at the boys. She was happy though, absorbed in the fun. Emmett wrestled the hose from Jasper and sprayed Rose with it; she leapt into battle and doused them both. If it were possible, I’d have guessed she would give them both enemas for ruining the cashmere she was wearing.

The water shut off; the sink ran and a toothbrush scrubbed against her teeth. She bounded downstairs to wish Charlie goodnight. Surprise saturated his thoughts. She ran back upstairs after a short time and appeared again. Her hair hung down her back, still dripping. She wore a cotton shirt, slightly too small, worn through in some places. Threadbare sweatpants adorned her bottom half. I tore my eyes away from her form, but couldn’t resist commenting.

“Nice.” I raised one eyebrow teasingly.

Though it was dark to her eyes, I easily detected the flush through the darkening and the smell of rushing blood. She grimaced, and her shoulders slumped slightly.

“No, it looks good on you,” I encouraged.

“Thanks.” She climbed beside me, folding her legs up.

And so it went—our first night officially together, our first slice of forever.

It was utter bliss, trailing my nose against her skin, resisting the exquisite scent, enjoying the way it burned me. It was, I would guess, like the pleasant burn of cinnamon mixed with the most beautifully delicate flowers I’d ever known. Of course, it was appealing—absolutely mouth-watering.

She questioned it quietly, the apparent ease in which I conducted myself. Our conversation was so easy, so natural, it allotted very little of my mind’s power.

I never would have dared dream it would be so easy—all of my worrying for the meadow seemed foolish, but for Alice’s vision. I pulled away from her slightly at the thought—my eyes red with her blood, her eyes staring lifelessly ahead, never to see their future….

“…If it gets to be…too much, I’m fairly sure I’ll be able to leave,” I found myself saying. She frowned hard, her hands clenching mine tighter unconsciously.

“And it will be harder tomorrow,” I added, fully coming back to the topic. “I’ve had the scent of you in my head all day, and I’ve grown amazingly desensitized. If I’m away from you for any length of time, I’ll have to start over again. Not quite from scratch, though, I think.”

She moved as if to bury her head in my chest, then stopped and rather angled her face toward mine. “Don’t go away, then.” Her tone was almost pleading, and I knew she was the most dangerous person in the world in that moment. There was nothing I, powerful as a god and driven by much less holy desires, would not give this fragile human beside me. There was nothing in existence, not in heaven nor hell nor earth that would keep my devotion at bay. There was nothing preventing me from giving her everything she wanted, and if that was her only request? The world should be so lucky.

“That suits me,” I said simply. “Bring on the shackles—I’m your prisoner.” I meant it, too. But my hands wrapped around her wrists—I doubted her short fingers could encircle mine—and laughed quietly. I had never felt so free, so entirely at ease with my nature. Of course, I was still a demon—my thirst for her blood, subdued yet ever-present, proved that much. But now, I could not hate it so fiercely as usual.

How could I truly resent the one way I could protect her? Even if I weren’t immortal, others of my kind would still exist. If I were human, it would be entirely impossible for me to protect her, with as sweet-smelling as she was. And, if it was any indication from her budding friendship with Jacob Black, she had an affinity for the unnatural. He was, of course, only a child, yet still the wolf ran through his veins. If this was to be Bella’s lot, my own was entirely agreeable.

“You seem more…optimistic than usual,” she said hesitantly. Her eyes gazed into mine, imploring my understanding that no insult was meant. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be like this?” I beamed down at her, perfectly at ease. “The glory of first love, and all that. It’s incredible, isn’t it, the difference between reading about something, seeing it in the pictures, and experiencing it?” As I was speaking, I ran my hand gently through her still-damp hair.

Her heart stuttered at my touch. “Very different,” she mumbled. Then, more clearly, “More forceful than I’d imagined.”

“For example,” I said, wishing her to understand the extent of my feelings, “the emotion of jealousy. I’ve read about it a hundred thousand times, seen actors portray it in a thousand different plays and movies. I believed I understood that one pretty clearly. But it shocked me….” I felt the sides of my mouth turn down, caught in its torment again. My memory was far too sharp for comfort. “Do you remember the day Mike asked you to the dance?”

Part of me wished she would say no, that it was irredeemable in her memory. That she did not care what the Newton boy did.

Instead, she did much better.

“The day you started talking to me again,” she adjusted, nodding. I beamed down at her; my empty chest swelled.

“I was surprised by the flare of resentment, almost fury that I felt—I didn’t recognize what it was at first. I was even more aggravated than usual that I couldn’t know what you were thinking, why you refused him. Was it simply for your friend’s sake? Was there someone else? I knew I had no right to care either way. I _tried_ not to care.” I chuckled sardonically. “And then the line started forming.”

She scowled, ducking her head.

“I waited, unreasonably anxious to hear what you would say to them, to watch your expressions. I couldn’t deny the relief I felt, watching the annoyance on your face. But I couldn’t be sure.”

I paused, testing my next words in my mind. But then, because we _were_ past all evasiveness, after all, I continued. “That was the first night I came here. I wrestled all night, while watching you sleep, with the chasm between what I knew was _right_ , moral, ethical, and what I _wanted_. I knew that if I continued to ignore you as I should, or if I left for a few years, until you were gone, that someday you would say yes to Mike, or someone like him. It made me…angry.” Of course, anger was not merely enough to express the murderous rage, the horrible indecisiveness.

“And then, as you were sleeping, you said my name. You spoke so clearly, at first I thought you’d woken. But you rolled over restlessly and mumbled my name once more…and sighed. The feeling that coursed through me then was unnerving, staggering. And I knew I couldn’t ignore you any longer.”

Her heartbeat thumped unevenly; I wondered, for the millionth time, what she was thinking.

“But jealousy…it’s a strange thing. So much more powerful than I would have thought. And irrational! Just now, when Charlie asked you about that vile Mike Newton….” I trailed off, shaking my head. I could feel the anger on my face, the determination to keep Bella for myself. He could not have her.

“I should have known you’d be listening,” she groaned. I refrained from rolling my eyes. How could I not, with hearing as good as mine?

“Of course.”

“ _That_ made you jealous, though, really?” She peered disbelievingly at me; it made me almost defensive.

“I’m new at this; you’re resurrecting the human in me, and everything feels stronger because it’s fresh.”

“But honestly, for that to bother you—” her voice rose half an octave “—after I have to hear that Rosalie—Rosalie, the incarnation of pure beauty, _Rosalie_ —was meant for you. Emmett or no Emmett, how can I compete with that?”

And again, in my mind’s eye, Rosalie appeared, lounging on the couch with Emmett. The two were inseparable, entirely made for one another. Rose and I had almost never seen eye to eye; the only time we really agreed was with cars. Even then, we fought over specs all the time. She was a better mechanic than I was, I’d admit easily, but with our combined engineering knowledge, there was fuel enough for month-long disagreements on seemingly trivial things like tire rotation or spoiler angle.

Compared to Bella—sweet, selfless Bella, often buried in a book or daydreaming, blushing constantly and so soft, so invitingly warm—there was nothing Rosalie held for me. Though I did love her, deep down, that could never compare to the utter devotion, the sheer gravity that Bella held for me. She was my forever, plain and simple.

“There’s no competition.” I pulled her into my chest, rocking slightly, absolutely blissful in this slice of heaven. Just being here, with her soft form in my marble arms, was more than I could have ever hoped for.

“I _know_ there’s no competition,” Bella muttered, resentful. “That’s the problem.”

I tried a different approach. “Of course, Rosalie _is_ beautiful in her way, but eve if she wasn’t like a sister to me, even if Emmett didn’t belong with her, she could never had one tenth, no, one hundredth of the attraction you hold for me. For almost ninety years I’ve walked among my kind, and yours…all the time thinking I was complete in myself, not realizing what I was seeking. And not finding anything, because you weren’t alive yet.”

“It hardly seems fair,” she murmured into my chest, her lips almost tickling my skin. “I haven’t had to wait at all. Why should I get off so easily?”

Ha, ha. “You’re right,” I agreed, sarcasm saturating my tone. “I should make this harder for you, definitely.” I released her wrist, switching it for her hand, delicately resting my fingers against hers. I never grew used to the warmth, the tingling bliss, that her skin held. I gently moved my other hand to stroke her hair, following the strand to her waist. I let my hand rest there, unfamiliar hungers surging through me.

“You only have to risk your life every second you spend with me, that’s surely not much. You only have to turn your back on nature, on humanity…what’s that worth?” Agony ripped through me. These violent regrets always captured me, drowning me in their intensity. Worst of all, it was too late. Everything I said was absolutely true, but I didn’t care. I was much too selfish to leave, as I should have all along. It seemed impossible she should have such a hold over me, and yet…here, with her in my arms, it was impossible to imagine she couldn’t.

“Very little—I don’t feel deprived of anything.” Her answer to the rhetorical question was entirely too chipper.

“Not yet.”

She tried to pull away, but approaching footfalls made me freeze. “What—” she began, but I was gone, beneath the bed before she could utter the second syllable. Her fists fell loudly onto the mattress.

“Lie down!”

Charlie approached, his mind full of fatigue and slight suspicion. Above me, Bella curled into a ball; she tried to make her breathing deep, but was too worked up. She huffed through Charlie’s long look. At least she refrained from snoring.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door closed and Charlie thumped downstairs, to the couch he usually slept on. Last week’s basketball match started up, the DVR jumping to it from the middle of a commercial. I relaxed and joined Bella again, slipping beneath the quilt and wrapping my arm around her.

I pressed my face against hers delicately, trying to ensure some of my heavy scent reached her nose. “You are a terrible actress—I’d say that career path is out for you.”

“Darn it.” She did not sound all too disappointed. Her heart was hammering, beating out a bold tattoo on her ribs.

I started up her song beneath my breath, the same from the meadow. I paused when her breathing slowed slightly. “Should I sing you to sleep?”

“Right,” she said breathlessly. “Like I could sleep with you here.”

“You do it all the time,” I reminded her gently.

“But I didn’t _know_ you were here,” she objected.

“So if you don’t want to sleep….” I invited her to fill in the gap, but she refrained, simply repeating it back at me.

“What do you want to do, then?”

After a long hesitation, she admitted, “I’m not sure.”

“Tell me when you decide.”

I enjoyed the moment, bringing my head closer to her neck, trailing along her jaw and basking in the ethereal scent. Truly, it was beyond comparison. Only an angel, a being not of this nor any Earth, could dream up such a powerful, enticing smell. If it was, indeed, meant to draw me to her, it worked. Nobody could ignore it.

I knew from the others’ thoughts that it was not quite as potent to them, and still it smelled sweet, calling out to any who crossed her path. It was a miracle she had survived this long—a great benefit, for her, she grew up in the unrelenting sunshine.

“I thought you were desensitized,” she choked out.

“Just because I’m resisting the wine doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the bouquet.” I wondered if she would ever tire of my food analogies. I was sick of them, but of course there was no other way to express the appeal. “You have a very floral smell, like lavender…or freesia. It’s mouthwatering.”

“Yeah, it’s an off day when I don’t get _somebody_ telling me how edible I smell.”

I laughed into her ear softly, then sighed, grateful nobody had found her before I had. Either human or vampire.

“I decided what I want to do. I want to hear more about you.”

Her curiosity was insatiable, nearly as potent as mine! What had she not heard, or guessed? Of course, I was more than happy to oblige. She could have anything, knowledge included, if it meant her presence in my life. Though I was not entirely unprepared for her to come to her senses and bolt like a frightened deer, as she should, I somehow doubted that would ever occur to her. She felt too safe around me.

“Ask me anything.”

She was silent for a moment, then said in an almost strained voice, “Why do you do it? I still don’t understand how you can work so hard to resist what you… _are_. Please don’t misunderstand, of course I’m glad that you do. I just don’t see why you would bother in the first place.”

Her question brought up memories of the same inquiry, asked in many different voices. Everyone we met of our kind requested an explanation for our strange golden eyes…. Most of them were dubious, especially if we mentioned our Denali cousins. Even Alice had asked what started it, Carlisle’s conscious, though she had been practicing it too.

“That’s a good question, and you are not the first one to ask it,” I finally started. “The others—the majority of our kind who are quite content with our lot—they, too, wonder at how we live. But you see, just because we’ve been…dealt a certain hand…it doesn’t mean that we can’t choose to rise above—to conquer the boundaries of a destiny that none of us wanted. To try to retain whatever essential humanity we can.”

Her heart beat evenly, but she swallowed several times, unspeaking. She was so silent for so long, and I didn’t know how to start the conversation again.

It was true, of course, that it was difficult. But, so was the other way.

A memory of my last victim, a horrible man who had maimed and killed at least fourteen children, flashed through my mind. The terror he deserved, but the vision of myself, glorious and terrifying and unstoppable, with blood-red eyes and fury clear on my face…. It was not who I wanted to be. No matter how much they deserved it, I couldn’t subject myself to an eternity of experiencing people die. I wondered, briefly, if it was worse than what Jasper felt.

I didn’t think I would ever have an answer for that.

Bella’s breathing was even, her skin slightly cooler. I was unsure if it was from my proximity, or the beginnings of unconsciousness.

“Did you fall asleep?” I whispered.

“No.”

“Is that all you were curious about?” My voice was high with surprise.

Her skin rubbed against the fabric as she grinned. “Not quite.”

“What else do you want to know?”

She asked me about my gifts, about Alice’s visions, and I gave her my best guess. I was still wrapped up in my thoughts, questioning the real motive behind my supposed humanity. Would I be able to kill if I could not read minds? If I only observed the monsters’ behaviors, hunting them as a regular predator? Only hearing their heart, feeling the blood rush over my teeth, down my throat, filling me with the essence of life they did not deserve?

I found I did not really want to know.

And, of course, Bella surprised me.

“So where did it all start? I mean, Carlisle changed you, and then someone must have changed him, and so on….”

“Well, where did you come from?” I smiled against her neck, almost indifferent to her jugular’s rush of blood, centimeters beneath me. “Evolution? Creation? Couldn’t we have evolved in the same was as other species, predator and prey? Or, if you don’t believe that all this world could have just happened on its own, which is hard for me to accept myself, is it so hard to believe that the same force that created the delicate angelfish with the shark, the baby seal and the killer whale, could create both our kinds together?”

“Let me get this straight—I’m the baby seal, right?”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled. As if she had to ask. “Right.” I brought my lips to her ear, breathing in her concentrated scent. She was the most desirable seal, and I the most deadly whale.

“Are you ready to sleep? Or do you have more questions?” I was anxious for her to go to sleep, to ensure she was well-rested. The last thing she needed was to catch a cold or the flu from lack of rest.

“Only a million or two.”

“We have tomorrow, and the next day, and the next….” I drew her in closer, wrapping her securely in my arms. She would not leave my sights, my heart, my mind. She was permanent as a human could be, forever a fixation of my devotion.

“Are you sure you won’t vanish in the morning? You are mythical, after all.”

I graced her with a laugh. “I won’t leave you.” And I wouldn’t. I could never dream of it, would fight every power the universe could throw at me, and come out triumphant every time. All for her.

“One more, then, tonight….”

Blood rushed to her face, her neck, her chest. I hadn’t known she could blush this hard. She trailed off, leaving me frustrated and curious.

“What is it?”

“No, forget it. I changed my mind.” Chagrin saturated her tone.

“Bella, you can ask me anything.” How bad could it be? Our bathroom habits? The change of menstruation for women?

She stayed silent, blush working its way to the very tip of her scalp.

“Ugh,” I complained, burying my face in one hand. “I keep thinking it will get less frustrating, not hearing your thoughts. But it just gets worse and _worse_!”

“I’m glad you can’t read my thoughts.” Her voice was muffled, her face buried in the pillow. Even so, she pressed her body against mine, clenching my hand with both of hers. “It’s bad enough that you eavesdrop on my sleep-talking.”

“Please?” My tone was innocent, persuasive, with just the right amount of sadness.

So, of course, she shook her head.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just assume it’s something much worse than it is. Please?”

“Well….” She pressed her head further into the pillow, turning so she was laying more on her stomach than her side.

“Yes?” I encouraged.

“You said that Rosalie and Emmett will get married soon…. Is that…marriage…the same as it is for humans?”

It was so ridiculous, I had to laugh at her. “Is _that_ what you’re getting at? Yes, I suppose it is much the same. I told you, most of those human desires are there, just hidden behind more…powerful desires.”

Her scent burned in my throat, but tolerably.

“Oh,” she managed to choke out.

“Was there a purpose behind your curiosity?”

“Well, I did wonder…about you and me…someday….”

I froze, stressed. The unfamiliar hunger rose in me, so strong. It was all I could do to keep my composure. Of course, I knew perfectly well how incredibly dangerous that would prove. I could, with great focus, ensure her safety in my arms. But with my attention…so utterly elsewhere…it was unthinkable. I would kill her. I knew, from years of the Denali sisters’ conquests, how difficult it was to master.

It was entirely out of the question.

“I don’t think…that…would be possible for us.”

“Because it would be hard for you, my being that…close?”

“That’s certainly a problem. But that’s not what I was thinking of. It’s just that you are so soft, so fragile. I have to mind my actions every moment we’re together so that I don’t hurt you. I could kill you quite easily, Bella, simply by accident.” I pressed my hand gently against her cheek, feeling the power in my forearm, my shoulder; even my hand had enough force to completely pulverize her femur, if I so desired. “If I was too hasty…if, for one second, I wasn’t paying attention, I could reach out, meaning to touch your face, and crush your skull by mistake. You don’t realize how incredibly _breakable_ you are. I can never, never afford to lose any kind of control when I’m with you.”

The seconds stretched to minutes of silence. “Are you scared?” I finally asked.

She hesitated, then said in an incredibly steady voice, “No. I’m fine.”

“I’m curious now, though,” I said after a beat. “Have _you_ ever….?” How I wished I could see her face.

I didn’t need to see her to feel the rush of blood to her face. “Of course not. I’ve told you I’ve never felt this way about anyone, not even close.”

Ah, that made the two of us.

“I know. It’s just that I know other people’s thoughts. I know that love and lust don’t always keep the same company.” My thoughts flashed back to the Newton boy, fantasizing about Bella as if she were only her body. She was so much more, the mind attached worth more than her unique beauty. Of course, I _had_ thought her plain when I first saw her. For the first time, I understood what they meant, about beauty being in the eye of the beholder.

And I knew I could never, never think of her as plain again.

“They do for me. Now, anyway, that they exist at all.” She sighed, clearly growing more sleepy by the second. But I wasn’t done quite yet.

“That’s nice. We have that one thing in common, at least.” I smiled, feeling oddly vindicated. Any similarity seemed to bridge the gaping chasm between our worlds; the two spheres came closer every day. Although I feared for what it meant for her soul, it felt…good…to be connected to her, in any way.

“Your human instincts…. Well, do you find me attractive in _that_ way, at all?”

I laughed softly, surprised as always that she was so blind to her appeal. “I may not be human, but I _am_ a man.”

She let out a huge yawn, sending a concentrated wave of her scent back at me from beneath the blanket. Venom flooded my mouth, but my muscles stayed relaxed.

“I’ve answered your questions. Now you should sleep.”

“I’m not sure if I can,” she admitted, turning to face me. Her eyes melted even in the relative darkness, seeking mine. I stared back, saddened.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” She barked so loud, I was half-expecting Charlie to crash through the door. But his heavy, regular breathing from downstairs continued, uninterrupted.

I laughed at her outburst and rested my hand on her face, lightly tracing her features with the tip of my cool index finger. I started humming her lullaby, encouraging her rest. Her eyelids fell, heavy, but she fought against them, straining to watch me in the dark. I smiled at her every time.

When her breathing became regular, I allowed the melody to lose some volume, not wanting to unknowingly rouse her. I pressed a quick kiss on her forehead and pulled her close, cradling her against my marble chest.

The moon made its slow progression across her room, the inevitable march of time. Too soon, our time would be up. Even if staying with her was an attainable goal, she would waste away. She would grow old. I would love her through every moment, but as soon as her heart failed, I would follow her into the beyond.

She shifted against my chest, nuzzling her head against my neck and sighing, content.

I turned my thoughts from the future and appreciated the time I had with her, right then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edward's a bottom, lol.


End file.
